Made of You
by Asuka Langley
Summary: This is a post-Hogwarts romance b/w Draco and Hermione. ***Chapter 13 Section 1 is up!***
1. Default Chapter Title

# A/N: This fanfiction takes place the year after Harry and the others have

graduated from Hogwarts. Hermione, for a reason I cannot say yet, has 

decided to give up magic and live a normal muggle life. Harry and Ron 

have both decided to stay at Hogwarts to assist Dumbledore in finding 

and destroying Voldemort. Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy has taken up the

full role being the Malfoy heir. He resides at Malfoy Manor, possibly

plotting the return of Voldemort with his father (BIG HINT: _possibly_).

****Made of You, Part One

Standing there, she breathed in the deep, fresh scent of wild flowers, her long red hair billowing about her pale oval-shaped face like wisps of silk. Her hazel brown eyes roamed over the all too familiar and yet unrecognizable flower field that she was standing in. Every flower was like a memory, and yet those memories seemed faded, like a letter read too often until it became more of one's imagination than reality. She stood there, knowing that her purpose of being there in the first place was for _him._ She was waiting for him. But where was he? It seemed like an eternity had passed and still, he had not come. Her first thoughts were _"Maybe he does not love me after all."_ Hot tears began to form at the corners of her eyes. Then, just as she was about to lose all hope, she saw him, his familiar figure approaching her from afar. At the sight of him, she rushed forward, arms extended, for her one and only true love. As she was pulled into his embrace, a sense of safety and warmth rushed through her body, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. The feeling of love and being loved was so overwhelming it nearly left her breathless. 

Just then, a cold presence fell upon the unsuspecting couple. Before she knew it, she was pulled apart from her lover's embrace by a force so dark, it chilled her to her very core. "No, don't take him away from me, please, I beg you! He's all I have left!" She realized that her begging was useless, for the evil presence was getting darker and stronger. Black mist swirled around her. She could hear the man she loved, calling out her name, trying to find her in the darkness. She tried to cry out to him, but no sound came out of her mouth. _No,_ she thought, _this can't be happening. I can't lose him, I can't._ But just as these thoughts crossed her mind, a wave of darkness engulfed her, and all was lost.

**************

Hermione woke up with a start. Cold sweat poured down her face. The same dream……what does it mean? It had been a month of the same dream. Every night, she would wake up, terrified and at the same time confused. Who was that man? As long as she had lived, there was only one person who had ever captured her heart, and that person was Harry Potter. _No,_ she thought,_ I promised myself to leave that part of my life behind me forever._ For a moment, she shut her eyes to prevent the painful memories from coming back. Only after the waves of memories subsided did she open her eyes again. Reaching for the nightstand next to her bed, she picked up a glass of water and downed it in several huge gulps. Having finished the water, she placed the glass back and stood up. Her breathing was still slightly fast and ragged from the nightmare. Walking over to the balcony, she pushed open the double doors and stepped outside. The stars shone brightly over the city of London. From her view, the city was breathtaking. She could see lights illuminating the city like a gigantic Christmas tree. However, her mind wasn't on what she saw at the present moment. All Hermione could think about was the dream she'd been having for the past month. _What does it mean? And who is the man with me supposedly being my lover? What about the evil that caused us to break apart from each other? _"Ugh, I can't stand it any longer! I won't be haunted every night by a dream that has no meaning!" But even as she said this aloud, a small part of her protested, _but is it just a silly dream?_ Hermione took a deep breath and tried to calm her thoughts and rushing emotions. She remembered that Professor Trelawny had once told her if one had a certain dream excessively, it meant that the dream would come true in the distant future. _No, I won't begin to think about Hogwarts. That's all behind me now. No more. You promised to leave it all behind. Besides, Trelawny was just a stupid flake who didn't know half of what she was saying anyway. _Then a sudden thought struck her. _Harry. _What if it was him? It can't be…but what if it was? The person's face was never clear in her head when she woke up, but Harry was the only person she had ever truly loved. What if the dream meant that he was in danger? _Oh god Harry, please be alright,_ she prayed. _____________________________________________________________

Like the fic so far? You'd think that this is a H/Hm fic right? Well, I'm not saying if it is or not but I wouldn't gamble my life on it. Surprises coming in the near future. Stay tuned. This is just the first installment to my long and hopefully interesting series. R/R please. I want some comments and since this is my first time writing a fic ever, please be a little nicer to me. =)


	2. Made of You Pt 2

Made of You: Part 2

# A/N: Well, this is the second part of the fic. You may be a little confused by 

thesudden drastic change in the characters' POV. However, you'll 

find out soon enough. As I said before, I'm not definitely making it a 

H/Hm fic so anything can happen. Also, I don't own any of these 

characters.

# As he lay there, he felt bright rays of the morning sun penetrating through the small crack between the purple window drapes. He opened his eyes just the slightest bit, observing his surroundings. At once, he recognized his room. _How did I end up back here?_ The last thing he could remember was indulging himself in a generous amount of alcohol last night at the local bar. That was all. The rest he couldn't remember. 

Turning to his right, he suddenly found himself face to face with a woman he had never before seen in his life. Startled, he jumped out of the bed. Realizing too late that he was naked from head to toe, he quickly wrapped a blanket around his lower torso. "Who the hell areyou and what do you think you're doing here in my private chambers?!" 

Instead of showing any signs of panic or remorse, the woman simply eyed him in an exasperated manner, clucking her tongue softly. "Were you so drunk last night that you even forgot who I am and where met? After all, it was _you_ who propositioned me in the first place. Or have you also forgotten that, _Mr. Malfoy_?" 

"_Me?!_ Propositioning _you_? Why in the world would I ever do a thing like that? Its not as if I couldn't have any woman I wanted in this bloody country that I have to sink so low as to proposition a mere _strumpet_ like you."

At those words, the strumpet's look of indifference suddenly turned to one of indignation. Standing up, she revealed her voluptuous nude body, unashamed even in the light of day. As she stalked over to the pile of clothing which was hers on the floor, she turned her now cold eyes upon Draco and glared. "You should be asking yourself the same question. After all, _I_ was not the one who begged _you_ for an endless night of abandon. It was the other way around, my friend. And now that my job is done, I expect to receive the right amount of due." Putting on the last bit of her clothing, the raven-haired strumpet strolled over to where Draco was standing and stuck out her palm out expectantly. 

"Take whatever the hell you want from my wallet over there and get out of my face. If I _ever_ find you near Malfoy Manor again, there'll be hell to pay for."It was already bad enough to have realized in the morning that he had just had a nice little romp with a common hooker. He didn't need her to stay around any longer for his father to find out what his son had spent the night doing. It wouldn't be a pretty sight. Especially now, since he was already engaged for three months to Pansy Parkinson. 

Taking her pay, the strumpet walked to the door. At the threshold, she turned abruptly to face Draco. "By the way, from our little experience last night, it seems as if you haven't had a woman for a while now, have you? Just some word, of advice: next time, try to make it last longer than ten minutes." And with that, she left, slamming the door hard behind her. 

"Damn it! "His fist came down hard upon the dresser table, making it tremble. Draco had never been humiliated like this, not really. Aside from degrading himself by spending the night with a common whore, he had just been thoroughly humiliated by her. It was more than he could handle. But somehow, he couldn't seem to remember why he had ended up drunk in the first place. It was unusual for him to drink excessively, but last night, he had been in an especially dark mood after losing money to Crabbe and Goyle, due to a certain unlucky gambling session. _I shouldn't have gotten drunk in the first place. What if something worse had happened? What if I ran into _them_? They would no doubt try to get the information they want from my lips and I would have been helpless to defend myself. _

Still lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear the knock on his door until a second one resounded. "Yes, what is it?" It was considered early and he wasn't in the mood for any disturbances.

Almost immediately, the voice of his butler, Jones was heard. "Master Draco, it is your father. He wants you in his study. Please be there as soon as possible."With that, Draco heard Jones' footsteps retreat down the hallway. 

"Blast! What can be so important that father would want to call me so early in the morning? He better not have found out about last night." And with that, Draco began to dress. 

********************

Striding into his father's study, Draco eyed Lucius Malfoy suspiciously. His father was not used to calling on him so early in the morning. Something had to be afoot. But what? A look of anxiety was apparent on his father's face, an expression hardly, if ever, seen. There was definitely something wrong. Sitting himself in an ottoman, Draco faced his pacing father. 

"What is it, father? You look so distressed. Tell me, what has happened."

At these words, Lucius abruptly stopped pacing and faced his son. "Draco, something has happened, something terrible. It seems that Voldemort is more anxious than ever to get rid of Harry Potter. In fact, he's giving me one month total to deliver a live Potter to his doorstep. If not, then the whole Malfoy family will suffer his wrath." Lucius' face looked surprisingly tired and worn."Son, you are the only one who can help me.

After all, you went to school with Potter. Seven years of co-existing under the same roof with him, you have bound to know some of his secrets."

Draco did not respond. He still could not believe what he had just heard. _Voldemort_. He hated that name. Even though his father had sworn allegiance to him, Draco had always loathed the dark wizard. He still could not understand why his father had supported him. Despite the fact that the Malfoy family name had been notorious for centuries for its involvement with the Dark Arts, it was never as bad as being involved with Voldemort. 

Personally, Draco would do anything to clear his family name up. After all, the reason he became the person he was now was mainly due to Voldemort. He would never forget that. Suddenly, he was engulfed by bitterness. 

"Draco, have you heard a word I've said so far? I want you to bring Potter to me. You know him better than any of us, despite the fact that you were his enemy. We all know that he is still residing at Hogwarts along with that no good sidekick of his, Ron Weasley. Since it is impossible to get through the Hogwarts security, I need you to somehow lure him out."

"Yes, father, and how the hell am I supposed to do that? Do you really think that he would come out of Hogwarts because I, his most hated enemy, told him so? You have got to be joking." His voice sounded sarcastic, even to himself. 

"No Draco, I am not joking. This is when your knowledge of him will come to use. What does Harry Potter treasure the most in his life, more than life itself, in fact? Think, Draco, think!" The look on Lucius' face turned from anxiety to desperation. 

"The question is not _what_ Potter values the most, but _who_," Draco said tersely. And right now besides Ron Weasley, it'll have to be Hermione Granger.She is, might I say, the love of his life. However…."

"However _what_, son? If it's Hermione Granger, then I need you to get your hands on her at once and lure Potter to us using her as bait. It's the only way."

"_However_, during the end of the seventh year, it seems that Potter had broken up with her for no reason. I know he was still in love with her by the look on his face, but I just don't understand why he did something like that."

"What does it matter now? As long as she's the one that can lure him out of his little shelter at Hogwarts, that's all that matters. We're talking about the welfare of the whole Malfoy family here, not just some lame tea party!" Lucius' voice seemed to sound more hysterical every minute. 

"I know father, I was trying to recall Granger's whereabouts since the past year. I know that she resides at her wealthy aunt's house in London's West End. She is currently a successful columnist for the London Times."

"Excellent." Lucius' face seemed to relax after hearing what Draco had just said. "All you need to do is now is lure her to us and all's done. Its as easy as that."

"No, father, you're wrong. Hermione Granger is a smart woman. Ever since Hogwarts, she has never trusted or liked me. What makes you think that she'll trust me now, enough to go where I want her to go and do what I want her to do? It's more complicated than that. Much more complicated." Draco's mood darkened as he thought of this. Hermione Granger was not an easy person to fool. "After all, in order to gain someone's trust, one needs effort and a sufficient amount of time."

"_Time?! We don't bloody _have_ time_!",his father's voice boomed. "If we did, do you think I would need _you_ to do the job?! I don't care how you do it, just get me Granger before the month is out. That's all I care about." And with that, Lucius strode angrily out of the study. 

"Yes, _father_," Draco sneered, "you can always count on your faithful _son_." Their conversation had left him bitterer than ever. He couldn't help wondering why Voldemort wanted Harry now and so badly too. "I'll be damned if I'm going to play into your little games, Voldemort. By the end of this month, we'll see whose the one that's going to be begging for mercy." 

With that, he got up and strolled out of the study. When he reached the hallway, a thought suddenly struck him. _Hermione Granger_….With that thought, a smirk suddenly spread over his face. _Yes, I think I'll use her after all._

Well guys, what did you think? Ooh, the suspense is building, isn't it? What's Draco going to do to the unsuspecting Hermione? What about Harry? Well, you'll just have to guess until next time. Adios! =P


	3. Made of You Pt 3

Made of You Part 3

# A/N: Okay guys, slight changes on the setting of this story. Instead of 

making it a one year time lapse since everyone graduated from

Hogwarts, I'm going to make it five. In other words, it has actually

been 5 years, not 1 since Harry and friends graduated. That would 

make them 22 or 23 instead of 18. This applies starting from part 1

of the story. I did this because there will be more adult events 

occurring in the story and 18 seems too young for them. Sorry for the 

inconvenience. Bear with me. Thanks a bundle! =)

Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters in the below story, except 

for Carol Jacobs.

"What's up with you Hermione, you seem so down today." Carol Jacobs, editor for the London Times and also Hermione's best friend sat down next to Hermione in the cafeteria. "Geez, you look like you haven't slept for days. And this is a cafeteria; you should be eating. What're you doing, just sitting here all by yourself and sulking? You look as if your pet skunk just died."

Hermione had to smile at that. If she was ever in a bad mood, there was always good, dependable Carol to cheer her up. That was part of the reason why they were best friends. It seemed that Hermione was never cheerful anymore, not since Hogwarts. Forcing herself not to think about her past anymore, Hermione leaned forward and embraced Carol, surprising both Carol and herself.

The pretty, petite blond was caught off guard by her friend's sudden show of affection. "Hermie, what was that for? Your mood sure is weird today. First you look like it's the end of the world, and now you hug me like I just saved it. What's with you today?"

"Oh nothing, can't a gal appreciate her best friend once in a while?" Hermione was very grateful for a friend like Carol, especially at that moment. Having her around made Hermione feel better already. "Anyway, what did you want to tell me? I mean there is a reason why you came down to look for me in the first place, isn't there? Its not even time for your lunch break yet."

"Yup, right as always, Hermie." Seeing that Hermione was out of her black mood, Carol decided to tell her friend the news. "As you know, there's going to be a costume ball at the Harding's Ballroom this Friday night.Anyway, I was informed that you and I were invited to it on behalf of the London Times. Of course, we'll be going there on official business. You know Craig wants the whole scoop on everything the next day. What's better than getting two _very_ gossipy girls to go dig the dirt for him?"

With that, the two erupted into a fit of giggles. It took them a while to settle down. Personally, Hermione wasn't really interested in going to some lame costume ball, but she was desperate to form a distraction so she wouldn't have to dwell on her dark thoughts anymore. "Well, count me in then. After all, there's nothing better than getting the dirtiest dish on England's _most respected nobles_."

"I agree a hundred percent. And hey, maybe you'll even meet the man of your dreams while you're there." 

"No Carol, I don't think so," said Hermione, sobering up suddenly. "Maybe for you, but not for me." She knew that Carol was only trying to help. After all, her love life had been a disaster for the past five years. Her friend had tried to set her up with various guys, none to which suited her tastes. But that was because none of them was _him_.

"Oh Hermie, can't you ever be optimistic like me? It wouldn't hurt to expect the unexpected once in a while. After all," she said winking, "it's a costume ball. And like they say, _anything can happen_."

***********************

Draco paced back and forth restlessly. How in hell was he ever going to get Hermione? The first step to his plan was to get a hold of her. However, once he did that, Draco would not be handing her over to Voldemort.Instead, he would be using Hermione as bait for both Voldemort _and _Potter. He would tempt Voldemort by telling him that she was the key to defeating Potter, and at the same time, threaten Potter with the chance that her life may be jeopardized. When he had both men where he wanted them, it would be like killing two birds with one stone. 

The only question now was, how in the world would he get Hermione to do what he wanted her to do willingly? He was not going to use violence as a tool. He was not like Lucius. Ever since Draco could remember, his father had abused his mother in order to keep her in check. He still remembered that time, at the age of six, when he had accidentally seen Lucius raping his unwilling mother in their bedroom. It seemed that his father had forgotten to close the door, and Draco had seen through the crack exactly what his father was doing to his mother. Even now, he could hear her anguished cries of pain and protest, and Lucius' laugh of pure scorn. He beat her until she submitted to his will. Closing his eyes, Draco tried to block out the image of his beautiful mother lying under his father, eyes closed, a look of torment on her tear-stricken face as she painfully endured her husband's abuse. 

Part of the reason Draco had acted the way he did was because he had never forgotten how he came to be born. He realized that he was not born out of love, but out of abusive rape. To him, that was as good as being the dirtiest lowlife. After seeing his mother's violent abuse by his father, Draco had become withdrawn from everyone and everything for the next four year. During those four years, he slowly turned from an innocent boy to a bitter, cruel one. His despised his mother for being weak. He despised his father for being cruel. But most of all, he despised Voldemort for making his father the way he was. For even at such a young age, knew that it was under Voldemort's influence that Lucius became the cruel man that he was. That was the main reason why he wanted to destroy Voldemort. However, throughout all of this, Draco had promised himself that he would never harm a woman the way his father had, no matter who the woman happened to be. _Even if was Hermione Granger_, he thought to himself. 

That thought immediately snapped him out of his horrific past. "Damn it," he said to the empty room, "how the hell am I going to get Hermione Granger to trust me?" He surveyed his room blankly, lost in thought, until his eyes came upon the day's London Times. The front page headline caught his eye. 

**First Ever Costume Ball at Harding House**, it read. Draco quickly scanned the rest of the article, suddenly eager. His mind was racing with possible ideas. A costume ball in London was always considered a big event, especially if it was for charity. All kinds of people would be attending, muggles, witches, wizards, everyone. And no doubt, members of the press also. If he was right, a certain renowned reporter and columnist from the London Times was going to be there. And smiling, Draco planned ahead for the costume ball he wasn't going to miss for his life. 

At last, the third part is done. Well, what do you think? I'm seriously considering putting Draco with Hermione. When you guys review this, please tell me whom you prefer with Herm, Harry or Draco. Also, tell me what you would like to see in the next chapter. I need some feedback, ppl! J


	4. Made of You Pt 4

Made of You Part 4

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters below, except Carol Jacobs.

The Harding Ballroom was bigger and more spectacular than Hermione had ever imagined it to be. White pillars lined each side of the rectangular room. The mint green ceiling was domed and beautifully wainscoted in white plaster and gold. A half dozen huge crystal chandeliers hung on it. The floors were wood parquet and polished so highly that they gleamed. Dozens and dozens of assorted small chairs lined the room's gold-clothed walls, beneath marble busts set upon pedestals and numerous works of art.

And there were so many people present that Hermione could not hazard a guess as to whether the guests numbered to two or five hundred. Along the edges of the ballroom the many guests gathered in groups, chatting and sipping champagne. In the center of the room, dozens of couples were waltzing to a minuet. 

But what amazed Hermione was that all the men and women were dressed in all different kinds of costumes and masquerades. No two costumes were alike, save for the masks that hid their face. At that instant, Hermione realized that the point of the ball was to obscure one's true identity from everyone else. Ashamed that she herself did not have one on, she turned around abruptly, ready to leave. 

However, next to her, Carol was quick to the eye and quickly seized her arm. "Herm, its okay that we don't have masks on. Truthfully, I didn't know about it and its too late now. Besides," she said with a grin, "wouldn't you rather go without the mask? I mean, then all the gentlemen can see just how pretty we are. Especially when you look so pretty tonight in your Juliet costume."

Laughing, Hermione had to agree with her friend's last remark. She was very pleased with her outfit that night. Dressed as Juliet, she wore a gold and blue gown from the 16th century nobility. Her long, silky red hair had been left down that night. It was left to tease her back, shining copper under the light of the chandeliers. "All right, Carol, you win. But I'm not the only one who looks good tonight.

Dressed as Cleopatra, Carol's outfit hugged her body so that it emphasized her shapely curves, leaving little to the imagination. There would no doubt be a flock of men crowding around her throughout the entire evening. 

Having settled on staying, Hermione made her way down the marble staircase to the ballroom, with Carol by her side. Once they reached the ballroom landing, it seemed as if they had been dropped in a sea of swarming people. Being slightly claustrophobic, Hermione had to nearly pull herself and Carol away from the swarm of dancing people in order to get to the sidelines of the ballroom. Once there, she took a minute to catch her breath and turned to Carol. "Gee, this is really fun. Do you think we can even walk at least five steps without getting trampled under by everyone else?"

But before her friend had time to make a remark, a man dressed as Julius Caesar had walked over to them. Once again, the mask that covered the upper half of his face made it impossible to tell who he was. Turning towards Hermione, the man smiled. "If you wouldn't mind, my lady Juliet, may I have the honor of sharing this dance with you?" 

Thinking the man terribly corny, there was only one thing that was appropriate for Hermione to say. "Sorry sir, but I don't dance." From the corner of her eye, she saw Carol give her a dirty look. Hermione knew that Carol wanted her to interact more with men, but somehow, she found that she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Besides, the man in front of her seemed like he would suit Carol's tastes more than hers. A thought suddenly struck her. She turned back to the man, smiling. "As a compensation for refusing your offer to dance sir, I'm offering you a more suitable partner. As a matter of fact, she's standing right next to me," Hermione said, gesturing her hand towards Carol. 

At Hermione's remark, Carol's eyes widened in surprise. The gentleman, however, was not at all disturbed by any of this and graciously asked Carol to dance. She agreed, hesitating briefly and was led onto the dance floor a minute later. 

Alone now, Hermione had nothing else to do but regard her surroundings. She surveyed the ballroom blandly until a strange feeling came over her. A feeling that she was being watched. Then, from across the room, something, no _someone,_ caught her eye. The man was standing in an alcove by the wall, partly obscured by shadows. Dressed as the Phantom, his dark cape gave off a mysterious aura around him. His face was covered by the classic phantom mask, and once again, Hermione was unable to recognize who he was.

An indescribable chill ran through her body, one of fear, nervousness, excitement…. Even as she regarded him, he continued to stare at her, as if his eyes had the ability to bare her soul. Suddenly, theirs gazes met, and held. Strangely, Hermione felt drawn to the man, even though she was sure that she had never before met him in her life. And when he began striding towards her, Hermione started to panic.

**********************

Across the room, Draco could see Hermione standing along the wall with a pretty blond. It had been five long years since he had last seen her and the changes she went through were breathtaking. The mousy know-it-all bookworm was gone. In place, was a beautiful woman with silky red hair and a graceful figure. 

Having been afraid that he would not be able to find her amongst such a big crowd, Draco had come early and decided to stand in a place where he could see all, but all couldn't see him. The alcove was the perfect spot. However, finding her was not as easy as he'd first thought it to be Because first he had to recognize her. And when he realized that everyone was wearing masks, Draco nearly despaired. 

After three hours of trying to identify every single red haired female to see if it was Hermione, he was ready to give up. That was when he spotted her across the room. Dressed as Juliet in a stunning blue-gold gown, Hermione would have caught the eye of any lusty male in the room. Draco considered it a miracle that she turned out to be the only person without a mask, aside from her friend. He watched as she was approached by a man dressed as Caesar, asking for a dance. Surprisingly however, she declined the man and it was her friend who ended up dancing with him. 

Alone now, her eyes wandered from the dancing couples to the decorated wall, and finally – on him. He was not surprised at all that she had caught him staring at her. After all, she was a smart woman, and if anyone could discover so quickly that she was being spied upon, it was Hermione. Her eyes roamed over him analyzingly. And suddenly, their eyes met and held. It was strange, but his heart began beating very fast, and his palms became sweaty. Before he knew it, he was striding towards her. Each step brought him closer to her, with her innocent brown eyes and slightly pouting lips. Finally, he had reached where she was standing, his body but a foot away from hers. And extending his hand out, he asked her to dance.

******************

"Might I have the pleasure of dancing with such a beautiful lady tonight?" The man had a deep and slightly husky voice. It was somewhat familiar, but she couldn't quite remember where she had heard it before. Up close, he towered over Hermione by about a head. His hair was platinum blond and cropped short, while his skin was bronze with a golden hue, no doubt due to being out of doors excessively. Looking into his eyes, she realized that they were sky blue. Hermione realized that she had seen those eyes before, but where? In the midst of her speculation, she had forgotten his proposition to dance. 

Seemingly unoffended by her silence, the man merely smiled, revealing straight white teeth and a dimple that graced his left cheek. That seemed familiar to her too. "Since you have neither agreed or disagreed to dance with me, I'll take your silence as a yes." And with that, he took her by the arm and propelled her onto the dance floor. The orchestra began playing a light minuet and Hermione found herself waltzing in the arms of the dark, mysterious stranger. It was hard for her to think, with him so close and his arm around her waist. Her hand felt so small on his wide, expanding shoulder. As their bodies moved to the music, his eyes never once left hers, even for an instant. Hermione felt herself drowning in his too blue eyes. It overwhelmed her, taking her to a level where only the two of them existed, and no one else. 

All too soon, the music ended. However, the stranger did notrelease her like all the other men were doing with their partners. Instead, he pulled her even closer, as if reluctant to let her go. Still staring into her eyes, he slowly lowered his head to hers. She realized that he was about to kiss her. Despite trying to feel panic, the only emotion that came through was excitement. Excitement, and so much more…..Her legs had lost all strength and the only thing keeping her up was the arm he had around her waist. He came closer and closer. She closed her eyes. Any moment now, she would feel the taste of his lips on her own. 

And like a light being turned on a dark room, a voice suddenly resounded loudly over the entire ballroom. As if coming out of a trance, Hermione suddenly realized what her and the stranger almost done. It seemed that he realized it too because he quickly dislodged his arm from her waist and stepped back. By the look on his face, he seemed to be fighting an internal battle with himself. Hermione refused to acknowledge the disappointment that coursed through her body. 

Just then, the voice that had broken the magic between them was heard again. It was the host of the party, Lord Jonathon Harding. "Excuse my interruption, ladies and gentlemen, but I would like to bring to your attention that it has just struck midnight. It is now time for all of you to take off your masks." 

Hermione's heart raced as she heard this. She was going to find out who her mystery man was at last. However, by the grim look on his face, it seemed as if he was reluctant to let her find out. 

"Now, when I count to three, everyone takes off their masks!", The voice of the host boomed across the room, irritating Hermione. Nevertheless, she was anxious to find out who was behind that Phantom mask. "One…. Two…" She could feel the suspense building inside of her. The stranger had lifted his hand up to his face, placing it on the mask. 

"_Three!_" And with that, he pulled off his mask. At that instant, Hermione realized that the stranger wasn't a stranger at all. It took her only a moment to realize who it was, and when she finally did, she was shocked senseless. "_It's you!_", she gasped aloud. 

Finito! I just want to tell everyone that isn't a D/H fan that I'm sorry, but my muse made me choose Draco instead of Harry. I promise that I'll make another fic that'll be H/H but this one just didn't turn out like that. Please don't flame me or anything. If you don't like it, just don't read it. As for the people that are supporting D/H, please give me ideas on what you want in the future chapters. Thanx! J


	5. Made of You Pt 5

Made of You Part 5

Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters..

_Damn it,_ Draco thought, _I'm in for it now. _By the look of shock and pure outrage on Hermione's face, he knew that she was not pleased to find out that he was the one behind the mask. _Great, what am I going to do now?_ In his mind, he went over about a hundred things that he could've said to her at that moment, but each one seemed inappropriate to him. In the end, the only words that came out were "Yes Hermione, so you finally realized." Strangely, his voice sounded cold and indifferent. 

"Draco? Draco _Malfoy?_ How the hell could this _be_?" Her voice had a somewhat hysterical ring to it. Her eyes, which had gazed at him with such adoration just a few moments ago, had suddenly turned cold and suspicious. She took a few steps away from him, stumbling slightly. Somehow, it hurt him to see that Hermione still distrusted him as much as ever. But distrust was not the only emotion she felt towards him, because Draco knew for a fact that she also despised him. That knowledge hurt even more, but he was unwilling to admit it.

"Well, who did you expect it to be, _Potter_?" As soon as the words came out of Draco's mouth, he regretted saying them because Hermione's expression had suddenly turned from anger to hurt. The last thing he wanted to do at the moment was hurt her in any way, but her apparent hatred of him had driven him to the edge. 

"I see you're still your old despicable self, Malfoy." Even though Hermione was trying to sound strong, Draco had the impression that she was on the verge of breaking down into tears. "Five years hasn't changed you much has it? Having a new outer appearance won't be able to hide your true colors, because you're still just a cruel bastard on the inside!" 

Grabbing her by the arm, Draco tried to stop the flow of her words, because each one was like a knife piercing his gut. "Hermione, I'm sorry about what I said…" But before he had time to finish, her hand came down, hard, on his face. "Don't touch me!", she cried, yanking her arm from his grip. "Isn't it enough that you've already humiliated me? Do you need another excuse to laugh at me even more? I guess you just don't know when enough is enough!" And with that, Hermione turned and began stalking away.

Just as he was about to go after her, Draco suddenly heard the sound of shattering glass. He snapped his gaze to the direction where the sound came from and was shocked at what he saw. About a dozen dark wizards on broomsticks had crashed through the ballroom's double glass windows, and were now looming over the terrified muggles. By the snake symbol engraved on the back of their black cloaks, Draco knew that these people belonged to Voldemort. They scanned the entire room, as if looking for someone. 

"There she is!", one of the wizards suddenly cried. He pointed his finger down at a person in the crowd. Following the direction where the man's finger was pointed at, Draco's gaze suddenly fell upon Hermione. _What the…? Why do they want _her_?_ But all thoughts escaped him when he saw the same wizard pulling out his wand and directing it at Hermione's chest. Without thinking, Draco ran towards Hermione, hurling himself on top of her. He felt a burning sensation sear through his left shoulder blade as they struck the wooden floor. Ignoring it, he scrambled on top of her, covering her body with his. 

His shoulder hurt him like hell, but there was no time to dwell on that. Pulling himself and Hermione up quickly, Draco grabbed her by the arm and began running towards the door. 

Behind him, Hermione struggled against his grip. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Draco? I can't leave my friend Carol here all by herself! I have to go find her to see if she's alright!" 

Ignoring her remark, Draco continued to run towards the door, his grip on her tighter than ever. When they got there, he kicked the door open and pushed Hermione out first, then followed suit. Once outside, Draco took up her arm again and started running towards a dark alleyway on the other side of the street. 

Behind him, Hermione stopped abruptly in her tracks, nearly causing Draco to stumble out of balance. Whirling around, he eyed her disbelievingly, wondering if her wits had escaped her."Hermione, those guys are _after_ you! What part of that don't you understand?"

"Listen Draco, I don't know what's going on here, but I _have _to go back and save my friend. I'm not leaving without her." There was a look of defiance on her surprisingly calm face. 

Draco was incredulous. Even as they were talking, the dark wizards were probably gaining on them. "How stupid are you? Don't you get it? They're not after your friend, they're after _you!_ Now let's get the hell out of here before they catch up!" But it was already too late. Behind him, Draco heard the sound of zooming brooms. Without another word, he took hold of Hermione's arm once again and ran towards the end of the alley.

"Draco, where do you think you're going? Its a dead end!" 

"Just trust me on this one, will you, Hermione?!" When they reached the dead end section of the alleyway, Draco muttered something under his breath, and where there once was a wall, now stood a door. Pulling it open, he dragged both himself and Hermione inside, then quickly slammed it shut. Muttering the same incantation as before, the door disappeared, revealing a wall once again. They were instantly engulfed by total darkness.

"Draco, what is this place?" Hermione's voice could be heard somewhere to his right. 

"You see," he explained, "the incantation I just used opened up this secret tunnel. It'll lead us to a hidden trapdoor in my room back at Malfoy mansion. I created this tunnel when I was ten years old, just in case of emergencies."

"Well good for you, but didn't you ever think to install some lights in here? I can't see a single thing." Her voice had just the slightest twinge of sarcasm in it. 

"As you wish, my lady." Taking out his wand, Draco whispered "Lumos", creating a spark of light. Handing it to Hermione, he began leading the way down the dark tunnel. 

As he walked, a sudden wave of dizziness swept over him. He had to grab onto the walls in order to steady himself. Draco knew that his dizziness was caused by the wound on his shoulder. Even now, he could feel the warm blood trickling down his shoulder, soaking his shirt and cape. He tried to ignore the dizziness, increasing his walking pace. But soon, another wave swept over him, this time, so intense that his knees buckled, causing him to fall.

Having seen this, Hermione rushed to his side, wand in hand, eying him with concern. "Are you alright Draco? What's wrong?" She put her hand on his bad shoulder, causing him to wince. When her hand came in contact with his sticky blood, she gasped in shock. 

"Oh my god, Draco…you're hurt!" He was surprised by the actual concern in her voice. Surprised and pleased.

"No really, Hermione. As if I didn't already know that. By the way you've been acting the whole night, you seem as if you've lost all your wits during these past five years." Draco knew that he was being mean, but couldn't help it. He wanted desperately to get her back for her mistreatment of him during the ball. In other words, he wanted to hurt her pride in the same way she has hurt his. 

Ignoring him, Hermione continued to study his wound. "Draco, now's not the time for games. I can tell you're hurt pretty badly. There's only one thing for you to do right now." 

"And what would that be, miss know-it-all?" 

"Well," she said smugly, " the only thing _to_ do. _Take off your shirt_."

Well folks, the end of part 5. I'm sorry if this one wasn't as interesting or well written as the rest. Its just that I haven't had enough time or sleep lately. It's bound to get to a gal. I'll be busy for the next few days with all these back to school things going on, so there might not be a new part for a few days, but I promise I'll get to it soon. Please be patient. And as always, your comments are what keeps me going so keep reviewing! Adios =P


	6. Made of You Pt 6

Made of You Part 6

Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters. 

"Excuse me, but _what _did you just say?" At Hermione's last remark, the look of amusement on Draco's face had suddenly turned to one of bewilderment. He could not believe what he had just heard. Hermione Granger, the straight-A, goody-two-shoes student back at Hogwarts, had just told him to…

"Take your shirt off," she repeated in a simple voice, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to ask a man to strip down in front of her. "Now's not the time to be stubborn, Malfoy."

"You sound as if you have a lot of experience with these kind of things," Draco said sarcastically. His words must have hit a cord inside her, because as soon as he said this, a deep blush began spreading throughout her cheeks. 

"Don't be stupid, Malfoy, you want to just stay here and bleed to death? If you don't take off your shirt, I won't be able to see how bad you've been injured." But even as she said this, Hermione's gaze dropped to the floor, unwilling to meet his penetrating stare. "I need to tend to your wounds before we go on. Who knows what we might encounter on the other side of the tunnel? By the way this night's been turning out, I wouldn't be surprised if we discovered a pack of hungry wolves awaiting us when we get there." 

Draco was incredulous. "In case you've forgotten, Hermione, _you're a witch_. Why can't you just heal me with one of your healing spells?" By now, he was really starting to believe that she had lost all her wits. 

"Well, Mr. Know-it-all, that would be a good solution, _if I had my wand_. But obviously, I don't seem to have it with me now, do I?" By her tone of voice, she must have thought that he was some kind of delinquent. "As if you should be the one talking here. If you're so set on healing with the wand, then why don't you just use yours?"

Feeling stupid, Draco now realized that in order to perform a healing spell, a wizard needed his or her wand. "Unfortunately, Hermione, I won't be able to do that, even though I do have my wand here with me. Us Malfoys are only familiar with methods of the Dark Arts, or have you forgotten?" This was true; ever since he was a boy, Draco's father had never bothered to teach him the art of healing, only tricks of the Dark Art. 

"Guess that only leads to one thing then." Hermione's voice broke into his thoughts. "Your wound'll have to be tended in the old-fashioned muggle way. Now sit down and relax. It'll only take a little while." 

Sighing, Draco sat down on the dirt floor, weary and weak. His shoulder hurt him more than ever, throbbing relentlessly. Hermione came and knelt down beside him, whispering an incantation so that his glowing wand was able to suspend itself in air, letting her hand free to tend to his wounds. Bending down, she laid her hand on his wound and began to pry it a little. He innerly winced at the sudden pain, but was unwilling to show any signs of suffering on the outside. 

"This will not do Draco, you still have your shirt on." Once again, her words surprised him thoroughly. At first, he thought she was only joking around with him, but one glance at her determined face, and he knew that she was dead serious. But even so, her cheeks burned with hot color, her eyes becoming downcast.

"As the lady wishes then," he said in mock gallantry. And with a swift movement, Draco removed the clasp that held his cape up. The cape glided down from his shoulders, landing silently on the ground. Next, he ripped the front of his shirt open, causing buttons to fly all over the place. Yanking it off, he threw the shirt onto the ground with a flick of his wrist. 

Draco was now completely naked from the waist up. "Happy now, Hermione? You've got what you wanted, now tend to my wounds, unless you really want see me bleed to death." 

Long minutes ticked by, and still nothing happened. Hermione seemed frozen, as if unable to move from her current spot. And as brief as it was, Draco did not miss the path of her eyes, as it swept over the ridges of his hard, muscular body. He smiled slightly, noticing the way her cheeks flamed at the sight of his bare chest. So she wasn't as cool-headed as she appeared to be after all. He was somewhat pleased at this. 

"Well, are you going to tend to my wounds or not?" His words seemed to break her out of her stupor. Coming towards him, Hermione placed her hands on his wounded shoulder. Despite the pain, Draco felt tingles of pleasure rushing through the spot where her hand had come in contact with his skin. Delicately, she fingered the gaping wound, gasping slightly. Apparently, it was more serious than he had originally thought it to be. The blast that he had took for Hermione had went straight through his left shoulder blade, leaving behind a large and ugly wound. The blood flow was non-stop; even now, it flowed from his shoulder down to his chest and arm.

Picking up the shirt that he had tossed onto the floor, Hermione quickly wrapped it tightly around Draco's wound. Almost immediately, the white shirt began turning a shade of red.

Draco felt more light-headed as each minute passed by. Suspecting that he was about to faint, Hermione began thinking of ways to distract him in order to keep him awake.

"So why did you go to the masked ball in the first place, Draco? Aside from trying to ruin my night, that is." 

Knowing that the truth would make her despise him more than ever, he did not answer her. Instead, Draco wondered how his well-thought plan could have gotten off on such a bad start. _Yes, just a bad start. _Because even though it had begun unsuccessfully, Draco was not about to give up. Not yet. This was the only chance he had of destroying Voldemort, and he was not about to give up on it so easily. _Voldemort._ The thought of him reminded Draco about the event that had brought him to his current predicament. The wizards that had been after Hermione were definitely working for Voldemort. Draco had no doubt about that. However, the thing that bothered him the most right now was the question of why Voldemort wanted Hermione in the first place. True, she was the one person who would lead him to Harry Potter, but Draco had thought that he himself was the only one in Voldemort's"inner circle" who knew about it, besides Lucius. _Of course, Lucius._ He realized that he should have never told his father about Hermione, because now his father had probably blabbed everything out to Voldemort, no doubt in an attempt to save his own hide. "Dammit!", Draco cursed under his breath. 

"Draco, what's wrong with you?" Hermione's voice suddenly broke into his thoughts. "First, you don't respond when I asked you a question, and now you start cursing under your breath for no reason. All this blood loss sure is affecting the way you behave. I mean, if you had kissed me now, I wouldn't be the least bit…"

She suddenly stopped, blushing furiously, realizing what she had just said. This amused Draco considerably, and he began to laugh. His laughter seemed to embarrass her even more, because she suddenly dropped her hands from his shoulder, clasping them in her lap, her gaze dropping to the floor. 

His laughter ceasing, Draco impulsively extended his hand towards her, tilting her chin up so that they were face to face. He looked into Hermione's beautiful face, noting the ivory hue of her skin under the dim light of his wand, and the way her big brown eyes refused to look into his blue ones, slanting downwards instead. 

"Hermione, look at me," he whispered. Reluctantly, her gazed lifted upward to meet his. They mirrored confusion, and something else he didn't quite recognize. Tenderness? "God, how you've changed during these last five years," he whispered huskily. And without thinking, Draco's mouth suddenly swept down on hers. Pulling her into his embrace, he crushed her against his hard chest. The taste of her lips was drove his senses wild; he couldn't seem to get enough of her. 

And she kissed him back just as passionately. Her arms had somehow found their way around his neck, and she pulled him tighter into her embrace. _God, _he thought, this was madness. In the end, it was he who pulled away from the kiss. Looking down at Hermione, he noted the way her skin had become slightly flushed, her pouty lips red and swollen from all the kissing. Her eyes looked dazed, and somewhat dreamy… She was so innocent, so pure. And at that moment, Draco regretted having to use her in order to get to Voldemort. It just wasn't fair. She was too innocent. But then, his whole life was unfair. The thought of his painful childhood immediately erased any doubts he had in mind. Life was hardly ever fair, he thought to himself. If he had to use her in order to destroy his most hated enemy, so be it. 

Removing the arms he had around her, Draco tried to snap Hermione out of her stupor. "Hermione," he said softly, "snap out of it." At his words, her eyes suddenly became focused again. She must have realized what had just happened between them, because her eyes suddenly widened in shock. Pulling her arms back from his neck, she backed away from him, as if he was some kind of monster. Somehow, her response irritated him. 

"Don't act like I'm about to bite your head off, Hermione. It was just a kiss."

"Well, how do you expect me to react?", she asked incredulously. "I mean, it's not everyday that I share a kiss with an age-old enemy…"

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?" His voice sounded offended.

"Just forget it, okay Malfoy?" It was obvious that she was trying to change the subject. "And you still haven't answered my question as to why you were at the ball tonight."

Draco was livid now. "For god sakes woman, can't I even go to a stupid ball without you asking me why I'm there? What are you, my mother? If I don't want to tell the reason I was at the ball, then I don't have to!" He knew he was being harsh, but he couldn't help it. Somehow, the knowledge that she still despised him as much as ever affected him more than he thought it would. 

"Fine, forget it then." Hermione's voice was suddenly devoid of all emotions. "By the way, your shoulder seems like it stopped bleeding. I think we should be getting on our way." Standing up, she took his floating wand in her hand and extended her arm in an offer to help him up. Ignoring it, Draco got up himself, though a little unsteady. He was still weak from all the blood loss, but he had just enough strength to reach the end of the tunnel. 

"Come on," he said, "I'll lead the way." 

And together, they journeyed through the dark tunnel. During the rest of the way there, neither spoke a word to the other. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, they reached the end, where there stood a wooden door. Hermione tried to yank it open, but it wouldn't budge. Slightly amused at her helplessness, Draco stepped forward and whispered an incantation. Suddenly, the door bolted wide open, revealing Draco's room. They stepped through the threshold, and almost immediately, the door closed, vanishing into the wall. 

With the lights off, Draco's room was almost pitch black. The only light came from the wand in Hermione's hand. Surveying the surroundings of his dark room, Draco suddenly felt an unfamiliar presence in there. In two strides, he was by Hermione's side. 

"What's the matter, Draco?" Hermione' s voice sounded slightly anxious. 

"We're not alone." As soon as he said this, a loud, high-pitched laugh was heard coming from the corner of the room. 

And a figure suddenly emerged from the shadows. 

Phew, finally finished the sixth part! I really thought I had no time but it seems that I wedged enough time to write this part. Don't expect the 7th one to come any time soon, because I'll be VERY busy lately. However, I will try my hardest to find time to complete this story, so don't you fret. Ciao! =)(Please R/R and give me more ideas, ppl!)

  


  



	7. Made of You Pt 7

Made of You Part 7

A/N: Hey, sorry I haven't been keeping up with the series for a while, but I've been busy 

with schoolwork. In compensation, I've made this installment a tad bit longer than

all the rest. This'll probably please all the fans who always complain that each part

is way too short. Oh, there's just one warning here: there's a tad bit of adult themes 

in this chapter. If you're offended by this, don't read it. However, for all others, 

please proceed. I hope you enjoy the story! JR/R! (No flames please!)

Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters.

At the sound of the high-pitched laughter, Hermione instinctively grabbed onto Draco's arm. True, she had jested earlier about expecting something to await them on the other side of the tunnel, but this was ridiculous. A figure suddenly appeared from the shadows where the voice had come from. Even through the dark, Hermione could see the outline of a female. 

And suddenly, lights were turned on in the room. Unused to the brightness, it took Hermione several minutes to focus her eyes. When she finally did, the first thing that caught her attention was the woman standing in front of her. She looked somewhat familiar, but Hermione couldn't grasp where she had seen her before. The woman's cold green eyes traveled from Draco to Hermione. Her lips were twisted into a contemptuous smile. 

"Sick with the flu, were you, Draco darling? You seem fine to me." Her voice also seemed familiar to Hermione.

"How nice of you to be so concerned, _darling_." At the sound of Draco's voice, Hermione's gaze whipped to his face. He seemed surprisingly unperturbed by the fact that there was a woman waiting for him in his bedroom. In fact, his facial expression gave her the idea that he was somewhat bored. "And just what do you think you're doing here in my room at such a late hour?"

The woman lost her coolness at Draco's obvious indifference. Her eyes flashed. "You bastard," she seethed, "I came here _thinking _you were sick, and what do I find?!" She was nearly shouting now. "An empty room! I've been waiting here for hours just so I can see who the little bitch is this time!" 

Hearing this, Hermione stepped forward, in a rage. "Just who the hell are you calling a bitch? For your information, there's nothing going on with Draco and I. As a matter of fact, I don't even like him." And from the corner of her eye, she saw Draco raise an eyebrow, an amused look on his face. She blushed, immediately recalling their kiss in the tunnel. "As I was saying, the only reason we're together tonight in the first place is because of an unfortunate turn of events. And just in case you're concerned, which I doubt you are, Draco's been badly hurt on the shoulder. But I guess you were too busy thinking about yourself to notice something as obvious as that."

At Hermione's last words, the woman turned her attention back to Draco, gasping. With a cry, she ran forward to where he and Hermione were standing. "Goodness, _Draco_, why didn't you say something? If I'd known sooner, I wouldn't have acted the way I did. Oh darling, is it serious?" 

The way she talked to Draco made Hermione want to gag. Turning to him, she was surprised to see that he still had the same indifferent look plastered on his face. 

"Stop fretting like a child, Pansy, it's quite unbecoming of you. Beside, I'm just fine and dandy, considering that Hermione already fixed the wound for me earlier." 

At his words, both women suddenly gasped in shock. 

"Hermione?!"

"Pansy?!"

Draco's face broke into the faintest of smirks. "Now don't tell me that you two already forgot each other! Well, in case you did, Pansy Parkinson, meet Hermione Granger. Hermione, Pansy Parkinson." 

Hermione suddenly felt as if a light bulb had been lit inside her head. _Pansy Parkinson!_ Of course! No wonder she looked so familiar. But what the hell was she doing in Draco's bedroom? What was their relationship towards each other in the first place? By the look on Pansy's face, Hermione knew that she was wondering the same thing about her. 

The two women stood there gaping at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, it was Pansy who broke the silence. Her mouth twisted in an unpleasant smile. "Gosh Hermione, never thought that a little goody-two-shoes Gryffindor like you would turn out to be such a little slut. And with a Slytherin, no less! Goodness Draco, I would think that you could do better than that!"

Hermione felt as if she'd been slapped in the face. Next to her, Draco suddenly stiffened. In her lifetime, people had called her many things, but never before had she been called a slut. Fierce, hot anger boiled through Hermione's veins. With a cry, she lunged forward, throwing herself on top of Pansy, knocking her down. As they hit the floor, she suddenly felt a pair of strong arms encircle her waist. An instant later, Draco was pulling her off of Pansy. 

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" His voice was exasperated, yet surprisingly calm.Hermione struggled against his iron grip, trying to free herself. Realizing that he was too strong for her, she ceased abruptly, collapsing against his chest, exhausted from her exertion.

Seeing that she had finally calmed down, Draco dropped his arms from her waist and stepped aside. Moving forward, he went to where Pansy was still lying on the ground, and pulled her to her feet. What happened next was totally unexpected for Hermione. Pulling her hand out of his grip, Pansy suddenly dealt Draco a slap on the face. The cracking of her hand across his cheek resounded loudly in the room. 

Hermione was shocked senseless. Draco just stood there,jaws flexed so hard it looked as if it might snap. For a moment, no one said a word. Finally, it was Pansy who broke the silence.

"Don't you _dare_ touch me, you bastard! Not after betraying me like this!" Her voice was shrill, on the verge of tears. "I didn't mind that you had other women, but how could you betray me with _her_!", she cried, gesturing towards Hermione. "I'll make sure that both my father _and_ yours hear about this first thing in the morning! And as for you," she said, turning to Hermione, "I'll see to it that your life becomes a living hell for stealing my fiancé away from me!" With that, she strode out of the room, slamming the door behind her. 

Pansy's last words made Hermione feel as if she had been knocked in the chest by something hard. It was suddenly very difficult for her to breathe. Turning to Draco, shefelt an instant surge of anger course through her. Only one thought occupied her mind at that moment. _He was engaged to Pansy Parkinson, yet he stilled kissed her back at the tunnel. _

Draco must have felt her anger, for he came towards her warily, eying her as if she was some sort of dangerous creature that was going to pounce on him at any moment. When he finally came close enough for her to reach, Hermione took a step forward and slapped him hard, across the face. It happened so suddenly that even she was surprised at what she had just done. Her hand left a red mark on his right cheek, the same side that Pansy had hit him on. 

For a moment, neither one of them moved. The only sound that could be heard was his harsh breathing. Then before she knew it, Draco had grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her up against him. Panicking, she tried to struggle free from his grip, which only made him tighten his hold on her. 

"Stop struggling, Hermione. It's not going to get you anywhere." 

Realizing that his words were true, she ceased her movements, looking up into his intense blue eyes. Raw emotions so intense she couldn't comprehend blazed in them. And for a moment, she was afraid. Afraid of what this man might do to her. This man whom she hardly knew, even though she had known and despised him for seven long years. 

Reading the sudden fear in her eyes, Draco released his grip, taking a step back. He turned away from her, running a hand through his disheveled blond hair. It was evident that he was at a loss for words, so Hermione decided to speak first.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were engaged?" 

He whipped around to face her, a somewhat stunned, yet wary look on his face. He seemed fairly surprised at her words. "What's it to you anyway? Weren't _you_ the one who said you didn't even like me? For a person who doesn't hold me in high esteem, you sure seem to care a lot about what I do."

Hermione blushed, embarrassed for asking such an intimate question when she had no business asking it at all. However, now that she had started this discussion, there was no way out except to continue on.

"You're engaged to her and yet you still walk around like bachelor of the year. Just who do you think you're playing with here?" Her face was flushed with anger. Bitter resentment showed in her eyes. 

For a moment, it seemed as if he didn't understand what she was saying. Then suddenly, a slow, amused smile began to spread across his face. 

"Jealous, darling?" 

Already vexed, his words finally drove Hermione over the edge. She lunged forward, pummeling her fists on Draco's hard chest. However, he was not unprepared for her attack. Using both hands, he grabbed her wrists and flung her on his bed, throwing himself on top of her. 

Hermione struggled under his heavy weight, trying to dislodge him off of her. It was no use, for he was too strong. Even now, his hands still gripped her wrists like iron cuffs. With a surge of strength, Draco finally pinned her fully under him, pulling her hands above her head to restrain her from any further attack. 

Knowing she had lost but refusing to give up the fight, Hermione bucked under him like a desperate animal trying to escape from its inevitable doom. The effort was exhausting, and within moments, her body gave out to his weight. She stilled, panting breathlessly under him, while he gazed at her with his intense blue eyes. The look on his face was wild, almost savage. Never in their seven years of acquaintance had Hermione ever seen a look like this on Draco's face; it scared her to see it now. And before she had time to react, he swept down upon her, covering her mouth with his. 

His lips were like liquid fire upon her. Hermione tried to push him off, but her body seemed as if it had suddenly turned to jelly. Sensing this, Draco deepened the kiss, his mouth opening hers quickly, plumbing her warmth with his tongue, each thrust becoming more and more forceful, more rapacious. Tentatively, she met one, and the tips of their tongues touched. 

It was too much for her to bear; Hermione cried out against his mouth, her control shattering. Somehow, without her realizing, Draco had released both her hands from his grip. His hands slid down her back, raising her up against his hard body. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down upon her. 

Suddenly, he tore his mouth away from hers. He hovered over her, panting, his eyes wild with burning desire. No one had ever looked at her this way, not even Harry. And for the first time, Hermione knew what true desire was. 

"Hermione," he whispered hoarsely. "I want you."

His words were like an aphrodisiac, drugging her senses so that she forgot everything else, save the man on top of her, a man she had once thought she despised. Hermione knew she should try to fight his seduction, and that if she didn't, there were going to be serious consequences later on. 

"No Draco, don't…" she panted breathlessly, trying one last time, with no avail, to dislodge him off of her. Sensing her reluctance, he once again covered her mouth with his, cutting off her protests effectively. This time, his lips were more eager than before. And when he pressed the entire length of his body against hers, she suddenly froze. It was as if lightning had struck her. At that moment, she knew she had lost the battle. And with a cry of pure abandon, she deepened their kiss, surrendering herself to him.

Well, what did you guys think? I know this was more kinky and intense than most of my other parts, but it was one of my friends who suggested this. Tell me what you think. Constructive criticisms please. If you don't like this kind of stuff in a fanfic, please let me know. Because if you guys are okay with it, I'll be putting a lot more of these kind of stuff in my next installments. (However, due to schoolwork, it'll be a while before you see another installment from me J)


	8. Made of You Pt 8

Made Of You Part 8

Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters.

Draco could not believe this was happening. He could not believe it was Hermione Granger he was kissing, that it was her whom he desired like no other woman. It was absurd, and yet not at all. As their lips fused, he could feel her desire for him mount to its highest peak. God, how he wanted to just take her, then and there. But he couldn't let that happen, not under the current circumstances. He had a job to complete, and it had nothing to do with taking Hermione to bed. 

It was the hardest thing he ever did, but Draco suddenly tore his mouth away from hers. He regarded Hermione under glazed eyes, seeing the extent of her passion, and her sudden confusion. Painfully, he dislodged himself off of her, loathing to lose contact with the feel of her skin. He got to his feet somewhat unsteadily, trying to clear his head from her sweet scent and the feel of her body. 

On the bed, Hermione had apparently come out of her passionate daze, for it was quite evident that her expression was changing from confusion to anger. Draco knew exactly what was going to happen. She was going to realize the extent of her wanton behavior with him, but will no doubt lay the blame on him, accusing him of seducing her. After the accusation, she was probably going to storm out of Malfoy Manor, which would be a total disaster for his plans. He needed her to get to Potter, and time was running out. If she left now, that would mean the end of everything. Aside from that, he couldn't risk the chance of letting the death-eaters get to her first. That would be worse, far worse. 

While brooding all of this, Draco momentarily forgot his surroundings, and was therefore unprepared for Hermione's sudden attack. Lunging off the bed, she ran forward, dealing a heavy blow to his stomach. Draco doubled over, cursing. He waited for the pain in his stomach to slowly ebb away, and then stood up to his full height once again. 

He eyed Hermione, who stood in the middle of his room, her hair disheveled, skin glowing pink from their earlier passion. The once elegant Juliet costume she had on now looked worn and wrinkled. However, there was no mistaking the cold fury in her eyes. Draco knew he had hurt much more than just her pride; he had hurt her dignity as well. He took a step forward, thinking of a way to comfort her. 

As he advanced towards her, she became frantic, backing away from him as if a beast was upon her. And truthfully, was he that far from being one in the first place, having almost done the unspeakable with Hermione, knowing well that he was going to betray her eventually? 

Surprised to have contemplated such thoughts in the first place, Draco quickly shook away all doubts, once again focused on the task at hand. His goal was to keep Hermione at Malfoy Manor until he lured Potter there. Then his plans for destroying Voldemort and Potter would be well on its way to the last stage. However, his current predicament did not seem the least bit pleasant for his ensuing plans. Looking at Hermione now, with her hate-filled eyes, Draco knew that it would take more than mere coaxing to get her to trust him. With resolve, he strode over to her, eating up the space between them until they were less than a foot away from each other. He reached for her, in an attempt to soothe.

"Hermione, let me explain…" he began, but was suddenly cut off when her palm once again came in contact with his right cheek. This was the third time she had slapped him that night. 

"You whoreson!" she screamed, "don't you dare come near me! You think to seduce me yet again? Well, you're wrong! Take your lust elsewhere, because I don't want anything to do with it! As far as I'm concerned, you and Pansy are just perfect for each other, a whoreson and a bitch!" As she said this, her body shook. Tears streamed down her pale face. 

Draco's control suddenly snapped. Grabbing her by the wrists, he pushed her up against the wall, pinning her arms above her head. He pressed the length of his body against hers, cutting off her struggles effectively. He lowered his face to hers, pinning her with his intense blue eyes, now dark with fury. 

"Listen Hermione, I apologize for what happened between us earlier on, but you try me beyond limit. My affairs with Pansy is my own personal business, and I won't have you slandering her in my presence." In reality, Draco didn't give a damn what she said about Pansy. The only thing he wanted to do at that moment was to wipe the look of disgust off her face. 

"You damned hypocrite!" she spat. "One minute you play the lover, and the next you tell me not to slander your _oh-so-beloved _fiancée. Just let me go! I don't want to see your face ever again!" 

"No Hermione, I won't let you go, not tonight." He smiled slightly at the sudden look of surprise in her eyes. Even now, while knowing better, his body responded to the feel of her pressed hard against him. 

"What do you mean no?!" she cried shrilly. "Have you gone mad, Malfoy? Let me go!" She struggled desperately against his body, arousing him further. Knowing if he didn't let go now he'd lose control again, Draco released Hermione, stepping backwards in order to put space between their bodies. He took a deep breath before continuing. 

"Listen Hermione, I need you to stay, but not for the reason you think. Believe it or not, your life is still in danger. What if you happened to get captured by death-eaters on you way home? I could never live with myself if something like that happened." It came as a surprise, but Draco realized he was speaking truthfully. 

"Why the hell would you care anyway, if I was caught by death-eaters or not?" Her tone was suspicious, her expression skeptical. Draco knew that if he didn't find a good excuse for her to stay now, his whole plan would go down the drain. 

"Do you really want Voldemort to have the satisfaction of getting his hands on you, and maybe who knows? If you were ever captured by him, the things he'd do to you would be much worse than what passed between us tonight." He knew he was going a little too far, but there was no other choice. He would go to extremes in order to get her to stay. "And you don't have to fear my terrorizing you if you stay" he added hastily. 

"Somehow, Malfoy, I truly doubt that." However, despite her words, Draco realized that Hermione's facial expression had softened somewhat. He smiled to himself, sensing that victory was not far ahead. Striding towards the door, he flung it open, turning around to face her once again. 

"Come, I'll show you to your rooms. You don't have to worry…my parents are not currently in residence." 

Sighing, Hermione walked through the open door he held for her, apparently admitting defeat. A sense of elation swept through Draco, knowing he had gained her trust, at least for now. As he silently led Hermione to her rooms, he actually felt gratitude towards Voldemort for having sent those death-eaters after her, for it delivered her right into his trap. And now that the game was in full play, he was going to be damned if he'd let Voldemort get away this time. 

********************

It had been two hours since Draco had left Hermione alone in the guest room. Sitting in the study now, he realized he had nothing to do. The brief missive he wrote to Potter about Hermione's apparent "kidnap" had been sent by an owl half an hour ago. It was three o'clock in the morning. He knew he should get some rest, but sleep eluded him. He found himself replaying all the events that had happened that night in his head over and over again. It hurt his head just thinking about everything. 

In the process of one night, he had created several problems for himself that would eventually lead to obstacles later on. The biggest problem at hand was whether or not Voldemort knew about Draco's plans. If he did, then all would be lost. However, he reassured himself that Voldemort could not have known about his plans and that the only reason he had tried to capture Hermione in the first place was because his coward of a father had probably told him about Hermione and Harry's past relationship. 

But having reassured himself about this situation, he was suddenly reminded of another one: his current predicament with Pansy. Draco knew he should not have acted as harsh as he did towards her that night. However, when he had heard her call Hermione a slut, something had snapped inside of him. He regretted his actions, because now there would be hell to pay for. 

Frustrated and angry, Draco decided to push his unpleasant thoughts aside and try once more to get some sleep. As he went upstairs to his room, he found himself stopping in front of Hermione's rooms. The doors were closed, and no sound emanated from the room, but he was curious nonetheless. A picture of Hermione suddenly slipped into his mind, of her barely-clad sleeping form lying on the huge four-poster, her silky red hair fanned out on the pillows, wisps of it caressing her beautiful, pale face. 

He had the sudden urge to go through those doors and make love to her endlessly for the rest of the night. He could still remember the feel of her body against his, the taste of her soft lips on his… 

Draco suddenly shook himself free of such thoughts, knowing it was ridiculous to want her so badly when he was only using her for his own selfish purposes. He told himself that he would not get close to her at all costs, for in the end, she would only hate him even more. Reminding himself of this, he tore his gaze from the double-oak doors that led to her room, and strode resolutely to his own chambers, not looking back even once. 

**********************

_She embraced her lover, her arms wrapping themselves tightly around his body. She knew only too well what was going to happen, yet was also aware that there was no way to stop it. The dark winds began to rise again, engulfing her and her lover. Suddenly, a dark, violent force pulled them apart. She tried to grab on to him, but the power of the dark force was too strong. Her head began to spin, dizziness overwhelming her up to the point where she forgot who and where she was. Suddenly, a voice was heard out of the darkness. "He belongs to the darkside, he belongs to me. You will never turn him away from his dark destiny, never!" _

"No…!" she shouted, but knew that it was no use, for the dark forces had won. And suddenly, deep, dark despair like she'd never known engulfed her.

_ _

_ _

***********************

Draco tossed and turned on the bed. His wounded shoulder throbbed persistently due to lack of rest. He tried not to think about Hermione, with her enchantress's beauty that could easily bewitch any male. But try as he might, he could not remove her from his mind. Her image kept intruding upon his thoughts, making it impossible for him to sleep. He was not a man to pine after another woman; it had always been the other way around. However, this time was different, for the mere thought of a sleeping and vulnerable Hermione under his roof drove him mad with desire. 

In the middle of his agonizing thoughts, he suddenly heard a scream. It was coming from Hermione's room. He was out of his bed even before the realization had firmly anchored itself. 

She cried out again, with a sob. 

Draco was at the door, his body tense, his thoughts filled with dire predictions. Without hesitation, he threw back the heavy oak doors, moving like a striking panther; one instant at the door, the next at her bed. 

When he saw her, he realized with sudden relief that she was only crying out from a bad dream. He sank down onto the bed beside her thrashing form. The sudden urge to soothe away her nightmares was overwhelming. Gently, he put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her into his embrace. "Hermione" he said huskily, "wake up." 

She was whimpering and sobbing. Draco wasn't sure if she was asleep now or awake, but she shifted her body, snuggling closer to him with a sigh. "Wake up",he murmured, his breath touching her brow. The endearment "sweetheart" was on the tip of his tongue. The urge to brush his lips against her brow, and then to taste her tears with his tongue was clamoring for fulfillment. 

His chest was bare, and Hermione's small, warm palm slid across its contours and finally anchored on his shoulder. Her face pressed into the broad plane of his chest, wetting his skin with her tears. Draco cupped the back of her head and held her closer. He nuzzled the top of her head, not wanting to let go. 

He held her tighter. She clung harder. His inner mind was astounded at what he was doing, comforting her like this. She was the woman he would use, the one he would betray. He had no right to hold her like this, none at all. But instinct warred with reason, and won. He told himself that in the darkness of the night, the rules did not matter. Anything was possible. 

He felt the instant of her full awakening. She became still in his embrace, her lashes fluttering against his chest like the teasing of butterfly wings. Draco anticipated what was to come, and tightened his hold, pressing her head closer against him. He had stopped breathing. Apparently, so had she. 

With her awareness, he felt awkward, clumsy, and foolish, yet completely reluctant to let her go. And he felt a soaring thrill, like victory, when she did not pull away. Instead, she burrowed her head tighter against his chest, as if he was herhaven. Sensing this, Draco did not let go, but held her to him, stroking her hair gently. They stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity until Draco's better sense told him to retreat before things went too far again. Pulling her gently away from him, he looked into her luminous brown eyes, unshed with tears. At that moment, he knew that letting her go would be the hardest thing he ever did in his life. 

"Hermione," he whispered hoarsely. 

Before he had a chance to continue, she suddenly put her hand to his lips, hushing him. "Please Draco," she pleaded, "stay with me for just a little longer, I don't want you to go just yet." Her words snapped his control. Without another thought, he crushed her to him, claiming her mouth. Surprisingly, she did not resist, but kissed back just as passionately, seeking his tongue fervently with her own. Her passion matched his own, if not more. And as he pressed her down on the bed, he knew that she would be his, even if only for a night. 

So how do you like it? I know my writing skills were very lacking on this part, but I am sort of busy with school, plus I'm on the volleyball team. I promise to be more diligent next time, so bear with me for the time being =). Please read and review. Tell me how I should write the next part. Please. I need ideas. And by the way, I have a very dear friend who is a new author. Her pen name is Azn Angel Prncss. Please read her fics and give her some constructive criticisms. She really needs it. Do it as a favor for me =) Thanks! Until next time…


	9. Made of You Pt 9

Made of You Part 9

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Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters. 

A/N: From the feedback I've gotten during the last chapter, I realized that I've made a

slight blunder by giving Hermione red hair instead of brown. So from this edition on

I'm gonna make her hair brown like in the books (although not bushy like in the 

books). J

Hermione lay within Draco's arms, her head resting against his bare chest. What they had just shared together was magical, something she had never before experienced in her entire life. Hermione had never imagined passion could be so overwhelming, so earth-shattering between two people. Until an hour ago, she had been a virgin, one who had no physical knowledge of any man. Yet when her and Draco had joined to become one, she had never felt more full, more complete in her life. The memory of their union would forever be burned into her memory.

"Hermione?" Draco said softly. His voice was low, husky and intimate. She blushed against his chest, too shy to meet his gaze. Realizing this, he pulled her slightly apart from him, tilting her face upwards till her eyes met his. His gaze was a dark and stormy blue, a turbulent sea of passion. Hermione lost herself under his intense gaze, forgetting all but the man in front of her.

"Hermione?" he repeated. "Did I hurt you?" His eyes were full of concern, an expression she had never before seen on Draco Malfoy. She bit her lower lip, shaking her head shyly, at a loss for words. 

"Hermione, I…" 

He tried to go on, but she hushed him, pressing a finger to his lips. 

"Shh, not now. Tonight I just need you to hold me." 

For an instant Draco was deadly still. His eyes swam with intense, indefinable emotions. Then without another word, he pulled her back into his embrace, enfolding her within his arms. His warmth gave Hermione a sense of security she thought she'd never feel again. She told herself not to think about their real-life situation, to live the moment like it was reality. To give herself to him completely for just one night… Her decision made, Hermione snuggled into his embrace, surrendering herself within his powerful arms. 

**************************

Harry Potter crumpled the letter up, flinging it in fury. He was livid. _Hermione was in Malfoy's hands._ How could this be? So many unanswered questions went through his head. It drove him to the point of madness, knowing she was in danger, but being helpless to do anything. 

He paced his room, tortured by thoughts of Hermione's predicament. An hour ago, he had been stirred awake by the owl Malfoy had sent him which carried the letter. Harry was at first surprised to find that someone had sent him an owl. Working with Dumbledore to defeat Voldemort for the past few years had kept him from contact with the outside world, which ultimately kept his loved ones from danger. And that included Hermione. Especially Hermione. 

When he had found out the contents of the letter, Harry had become sick with dread. _She was in Malfoy's hands._ The first thought that came into his mind was that it was all his fault. If only he hadn't pushed her away from him so thoroughly… If only he had kept her by his side… 

Breaking off his relationship with Hermione had been the hardest thing he had ever done in his life, but it was inevitable. If she had stayed, it would only have been a distraction to his concentration and eventual danger for herself. Yet these reasons could not ease his conscience about leaving her alone during a time of danger. 

_I've got to get to her somehow, _he thought desperately. In the letter, Draco had demanded his presence in Malfoy Manor within a week from the present time. 

He had a week to devise a plan. Harry was not going to get entangled into Malfoy's little trap. Somehow, he was going to rescue Hermione from the terrible danger that was in store for her no matter what it cost. Even if it meant killing… 

The door to his room suddenly burst open, revealing a disheveled Ron in his pajamas, red hair tousled. 

"It's 3:30 in the morning, Harry. What the hell could you possibly want from me at this bloody hour?" His voice carried a slightly impatient note to it.

"It's Hermione, Ron. She's been captured by Malfoy, and the price for her freedom is me. You tell me if this is important enough to wake you up in the middle of the night."

At his words, Ron's eyes suddenly snapped into alertness. Shutting the door behind him, he strode over to where Harry was sitting, pulling a chair next to his friend. 

"When was this? How'd you find out about it in the middle of the night?"

Harry sighed. "Malfoy sent me an owl that arrived half an hour ago with the letter. It's stated clearly that he wants my life in exchange for Hermione's. If I don't go, only god knows what he'll do to her. And it'll be all my fault. If anything happens to her Ron, I don't think I'll…" He stopped abruptly, burying his face in his hands in defeat. 

"So what do you plan on doing, Harry? Malfoy's a crafty weasel; it'll take a lot more than just you and me to outsmart him. Maybe you should consult Dumbledore about this first." 

Harry raised his head, gazing steadily into Ron's eyes. "No, don't tell Dumbledore. He has enough worries as it is. I'll take care of it myself. Just tell him I'll be leaving Hogwarts for a week, and when I come back, I'm bringing Hermione with me." 

"_With _Hermione?!" Ron gasped. "You don't mean to say that…" 

"Yes Ron", Harry said in a quiet, determined voice, "it's about time."

****************************

It was early morning and the sun was breaking through the window draperies. Draco stirred, awakened by the chirping of songbirds outside his window. He shifted to his side on the bed, suddenly frowning. _Something was missing. _He opened his eyes, realizing that he was alone in bed. He turned to find the space next to him on the bed empty. Wisps of silky-brown hair remained on the pillow next to his. Her scent still clung to the sheets, a light, sweet feminine fragrance. _But where in the world was she?_

Getting out of bed, Draco went to the closet, opening it. Her clothes were gone. He slammed the closet door shut, running a hand through his disheveled blonde hair. She was gone. She had left without even a word of farewell. In the pit of his stomach, Draco felt sick. His lungs became constricted, making it hard for him to breathe. 

Suddenly, a noise from the outside balcony caught his attention. Striding over to the balcony doors, he cast the draperies aside, opening the doors. Upon doing so, he found Hermione, fully dressed, perched on a lounge chair, overlooking the morning scenery. Her profile was draped in sunlight, creating a halo around her head. Her eyes had a faraway look, as if in a trance. She did not acknowledge his presence, but instead continued to stare out into the horizon. 

Draco walked over to where she sat, kneeling down so that he was at eye level with her. Hesitantly, he touched her shoulder with a reverent hand. She blinked, her eyes losing the glasslike emptiness it had had a moment ago.She seemed to be once again aware of her surroundings. Her gaze suddenly slid to Draco's. As their eyes met, a feeling of wistfulness passed between them. 

"Hermione," Draco said softly, as if afraid to break the silent peace between them. 

She seemed to not have heard him, but continued to gaze into his eyes with a tinge of regret. Her eyes suddenly became moist with tears, and one lonely teardrop finally slipped down her cheek. He cupped her face with his hands, using his the pad of his thumb to wipe away the tear. His actions were so gentle, it suddenly cut her emotions loose. With a sob, she threw herself into his arms, burying her face against his chest. Draco was startled at her sudden emotion, not knowing what else to do but to hold her in his arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, rocking her back and forth until her sobs subsided. Afterwards, they stayed that way, locked in each other's embrace, each loathing to let go of the other. It was Hermione who finally broke the silence between them. 

"Why do you have to be a Malfoy?" she whispered softly. "Why couldn't it be different between us?" Her voice, filled with pain, broke Draco's heart. It led him to fully contemplate their impossible situation. He was a Malfoy, she was a mudblood; he was engaged to Pansy, she was supposedly still in love with Potter; he was only using her for his own selfish purposes, and she would ultimately hate him for it in the end. He had to end their budding relationship now before it went on any further. There could never be anything between them. Somehow, this realization left an unusual aching within his chest. 

"You're right, Hermione. Because I'm a Malfoy, nothing good can ever come out of this relationship." He knew his words would hurt her, but there was no other way. This was the only way to prevent them both from further heartache. "Another time, another place, and maybe it would have worked, but you know that is impossible."

As he said these words, Hermione felt as if Draco had physically pierced her heart with a knife. Now she could never tell him what she had wanted to. She could never tell him that he was her sole savior from the never-ending nightmares that haunted her every night. She could never tell him about the emotions he had stirred within her while in his arms. There was nothing left to say. Gently, she extricated herself from his arms, moving back slightly to put distance between them. Looking into his intense blue eyes, Hermione fought for control not to weep. 

"I agree with you completely, Draco. There can never be anything between us. Last night was a mistake, a mere passion evoked by thoughtless desire. I apologize for everything…." She tried to continue, but her voice suddenly caught on a sob. Of their own volition, the tears she had tried to suppress spilled down her cheeks. 

Her tears tore at Draco's heart. His heart told him to take back those hurtful words, to tell her his true feelings, while common sense told him to be impassive to her tears, to pretend that she didn't mean anything to him. But as he gazed into her tear-stained face so full of heartache, Draco knew that this time, his common sense would not win over his heart. He couldn't stand seeing her tears, tears that he knew he had invoked. At that moment, all thoughts escaped him save the urge to hold her in his arms and take away her pain. 

Without further hesitation, he pulled her into his embrace, locking his arms tightly around her. He held her as if he never wanted to let her go, knowing he would be damned for this, that she would eventually hate him even more in the end. But the strange thing was, at that moment, Draco didn't care. All he cared about was the woman in his arms, a woman who had touched his heart like no other. 

In his arms, Hermione relinquished all control over her emotions. Sobs racked her body, causing her to shudder against him. In response, he tightened his arms around her, crushing her to his chest. 

"Please don't cry, Hermione." Draco said in an anguished voice. "God…why can't I have the strength to let you go, why?" He pulled her away from him abruptly and stared into her tear-streaked face, at once beautiful and so full of pain. "Do you know how your tears affect me thus?" 

Hermione shook her head, unable to answer him without breaking into sobs. Deep down inside, she knew all this was wrong. She should not be crying over their separation. They had never even been together in the first place. He was a Malfoy, a man who could not be trusted. But despite everything, she couldn't stop the ache in her chest at the thought of never seeing him again. 

"God, Hermione, do you know what I'd do to make you stop crying?" His voice was agonized, his face strained with emotion. "You know this can never work, that we can never be together no matter what…" He stopped abruptly, taking her hands in his, gripping it tightly. "But somehow…I just can't seem to let you go. You've somehow bewitched me, because I've never felt this way with any other woman." 

Before Hermione had time to fully comprehend his words, Draco pulled her back into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. 

"All I know right now is that I can't seem to function properly without your presence. I need you by my side. And I'm not talking about protecting you from Voldemort. I just need to be with you, no matter what the consequences. Will you stay with me, Hermione?"

For a moment, she tensed in his arms, not knowing what to say. How could she agree to something so absurd, so impossible? She would have to be a complete fool to believe that this relationship can last. But despite everything, her heart told her to stay, to pursue this budding relationship which promised something she would likely never be able to experience if she passed it up. Heart warred with reason, and finally, the answer came to her as clear as day. 

"Looking up into his intense blue eyes, she finally said, solemnly "Yes Draco, I will stay with you. No matter the consequences." 

At her words, he made a deep sound in his throat, then crushed her to him. His mouth came down hard on hers, seeking her lips with his. She responded with the same ardor, abandoning herself to his passion. Deep in the back of her head, Hermione knew that she was bringing upon her own downfall, but with his lips on hers and his arms around her, it was too much to resist. Cutting off her doubts, she gave in to his kiss, giving herself to him yet again… 

*********************************

_I'm almost there,_ she thought. As she was reaching Lucius' estate in Essex, Pansy seethed with anger. _I'm going to destroy that little slut Granger. She's not going to take away Draco from me, not when he's been mine for all this time. _True, she did not really love her fiancé, but his name and fortune was enough to compensate for that. The Malfoys were known to be one of the oldest, most powerful dark wizards that ever existed. Becoming Draco's wife would complete her life ambition, which was to be known throughout the wizarding world by all, to be feared, respected, and envied by all.

She wasn't going to let Hermione Granger ruin it for her if it was the last thing she did. Because from way back at Hogwarts, she had known that Draco had harbored some feelings for her, but was too horrified to admit it, even to himself. Pansy could still remember the event that had happened during their seventh and last year at Hogwarts. Her mouth turned into a deep frown at the recollection of that memory. 

_It was fairly sunny on that spring day, and most of the students had decided to go outdoors during their free time to take advantage of the fresh air.Pansy was walking beside Draco, with Crabbe and Goyle tailing behind as usual. They had nothing to do in particular, except to look for trouble. Coming upon the lake, they spotted Hermione Granger. She was sitting by the lake, apparently engrossed in a thick textbook. At the sight of her, Pansy's mouth curled into a sardonic smile. This was the perfect chance to get Granger back for making a fool out of her in Deviation earlier that day. _

_Turning to Draco, she asked sweetly, "Darling, isn't that Hermione Granger sitting by the lake? Look, she's so engrossed in that stupid book that she probably won't even notice if someone pushed her into the lake." However, Pansy he did not get the response from him that she had wanted. He seemed oblivious to her words, and was staring at Hermione with an air of intensity she had never beheld before. Anger and jealousy seized her, and striding resolutely towards Hermione, Pansy, did not even give a backward glance to Draco. Reaching the lake in a few long strides, she stopped in front of Hermione's feet, stopping abruptly. Bending down, she snatched the book from her hand, tossing it into the lake. _

_"What the heck…?!" Hermione shouted angrily. "Why'd you do that for?" Getting up, she stood nose to nose with Pansy, eyeing her with antipathy. "You'd better get that back for me, Parkinson, or you'll see what I'll do to you."_

_"Ooh, is that a threat, Mudblood Granger? Because if it is, you're sure not scaring me. And by the way, this is to get you back for this morning!" Before Hermione could react, Pansy grabbed her by the arms, and pushed her into the lake. She hit the surface with a loud splash. _

_Laughing, Pansy turned away, pleased with her handiwork. Then suddenly, she heard a scream behind her. Turning back to the lake, Pansy found Hermione struggling to reach the surface. It was impossible! The lake was only four feet deep! But what she saw was totally contradicting. It seemed as if Hermione was being sucked in by a whirlpool, and was helpless to stop it. Then, out of the blue, Draco suddenly appeared, wand in hand. Whispering some kind of spell, he waved his wand towards the water. Green light sparkled out, stopping the whirlpool. As the lake ceased to spin, he jumped in, clothes and all, and fetched Hermione out. As they reached the grass, he gently laid her on her back, realizing that she had passed out from shock. Standing, he suddenly turned to Pansy, eyes flashing with cold rage. _

_"What the hell did you do that for, Pansy!? You could've killed her, do you know that?! This lake is known to have whirlpools in the spring time, and you're stupid enough to push her in?!"_

_He was going to go on, but a cry from a distance stopped him. Far off, Harry Potter was spotted, and he was running towards the crowd. By that time, many people had gathered to watch the spectacle. When he saw Hermione in her state of unconsciousness, Harry suddenly turned to Draco in fury. _

_"What happened here, Malfoy? Did you do this?! What happened to Hermione?"_

_Instead of answering, Draco simply sneered at Harry and turned away, ready to walk away. Harry grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping him._

_"Listen, Malfoy, I want to know what the hell happened to Hermione, and if you won't tell me, I'm going to force it out of you." _

_"Really, Potter, you underestimate me. Do you really think I'm intimidated by you? Believe whatever you want to believe. If you think I did it, then I did." _

_And with a final scowl, he left, with Crabbe and Goyle following. Pansy just stood there, dumbfounded by what had just passed. Draco had actually taken blame for something she'd done! But why? _

All these questions tumbled in her head as she stood there. A few feet away, Harry had taken the still-unconscious Hermione in his arms and was bringing her to the infirmary. One question still raged in her head: Why had Draco saved Granger in the first place? The question suddenly collided with the image of him staring intently at her by the lake just minutes ago. The pieces suddenly snapped together in her head. Draco had feelings for Hermione! With this realization came a rush of cold fury. At that moment, Pansy promised herself that she would never let Hermione get in the way of her and Draco, even if she had to kill her to keep that promise. 

The memory of that day was like bile to her. It had taken weeks before Draco had finally forgiven her for her actions. And afterwards, it had never really been the same between them, especially after she had found out about his feelings. However, no matter what he felt, Pansy knew that he would never express his feelings for Granger because of they're social positions. 

And until last night, everything had been well. If only Hermione hadn't walked into their lives once again. However, Pansy promised, she was going to get rid of her this time, once and for all, out of Draco's life and hers…for good.

As her car pulled up to Lucius' estate, a slow smile began to spread across her face. _Yes, _she thought, _this is the beginning of the end for Hermione Granger._

_ _

Well guys? What do you think? I really am sorry this took so long, but school is soooooo stressing. I hope you liked it and please give some constructive criticisms. As you probably guessed, I'm not going to be writing the next part for at least 2 weeks, so please be patient. And you can always give me ideas for the next edition because that's usually what makes me slow down…a lack of ideas. So tell me what to do, ok guys? Thanks for being so patient with me. Bbai! J

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	10. Made of You Pt 10

Made of You Part 10

Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters. 

A/N: Well, I'm now thinking of ending the story at part 15. I really don't know yet, cuz I

could end up making it longer than that, so nothing's final. Well, hope you enjoy

this edition! J

"Come in." 

At the sound of Lucius' voice, Pansy opened the door to his study and entered. Once inside, she remarked the gloominess of the room, with its dark-green walls and heavy drapes covering the windows, preventing sunlight from coming in. The atmosphere was cold and dank, evoking a sense of dread in one's soul. Sustaining a shudder of fear, Pansy strode to the desk where Lucius sat. Seeing her, he shifted his attention from the paperwork on his desk to her tall, standing form. 

"So what brings you here on a day like this? May I guess it has something to do with my son?" His voice seemed detached, almost annoyed. Pansy knew that she had intruded on his private time, but her circumstance was too crucial to wait. 

"You're damned right it's about your son, Lucius. As a matter of fact, you'd be quite interested to hear who he was with _last night_." Her last words caused his eyes to narrow, an alert expression forming on his face. 

"Speak up, girl. I've no time for guessing games." 

"Very well, then," she said smugly, "last night, your precious _heir_ was seen in the very company of that mudblood whore, Hermione Granger." 

To her utter surprise, instead of falling into a rage like she'd expected, Lucius' expression suddenly relaxed in relief. "Is _that_ all?" he exclaimed. "Dear God, girl, you almost had me scared for a moment!"

By this time, Pansy had become incredulous. "What do you mean by 'Is that all?' Those two have been romping about like a bunch of animals the whole night, and you sit here making it sound like it's an everyday thing!" 

Chuckling under his breath, Lucius eyed his daughter-to-be with vast amusement. "So I see Draco took my advice after all. Smart boy, I knew I could count on him." 

"_What did you say?!_" Pansy was almost on the verge of hysterics, having heard his last words. "_You _planned this?" She had a sudden urge to grab Lucius by the neck and choke the smug look off of his face. 

"Why, you underestimate my son entirely, Pansy. You must know by now that he has an ulterior motive in everything he does. Do you really think he was with Hermione last night for just a simple romp? Surely you know him better than that." His expression now turned from amusement to genuine surprise at the fact that she was not aware of Draco's plan. 

"But if this is so, then why didn't he tell _me_ anything beforehand?" She was still doubtful about Lucius' explanation, no matter what he claimed.

"Ask no more questions regarding this matter. I will not have you snooping around my family business, whether you're Draco's fiancée or not. Is that clear?" By his tone of voice, she knew that the discussion had come to an end. Further questions would undoubtedly lead to unwanted consequences.

"Very well then, _father_, I'll ask no further. As always, you can depend on me to keep your secrets. Good day." And with that, she stomped out of the room, angry that she had ever relied on him to solve her problems. She was a fool, a total fool, to have thought that any good would come out of involving herself with this family. How could Lucius possibly think that…that Draco had _planned_ all the things that had occurred last night? 

_So Draco took my advice after all. Smart boy, I knew I could count on him._

__But what if…? What if what Lucius said was really true? Then what? Pansy's mind began to swarm. For the first time since last night, she realized that it was not entirely impossible for Draco to have done what his father had accused him of doing a moment ago. In fact, it seemed more and more likely that he had planned everything. _But that means…_

She suddenly winced at the memory of her treatment of him last night. Oh God, she must've made such a fool of herself in front of Draco and Hermione. To think that he was probably laughing at her inwardly all the time… The thought made her turn red with embarrassment and anger. Why hadn't he told her about his plans in the first place to save all this misunderstanding? 

But there was so little time to begin with, she argued back. And besides, Draco was the kind of man who did whatever came to mind, answering to no one, giving no explanations. This finally convinced her, and for once since last night, Pansy felted relaxed, even content. To think that Hermione had been duped by Draco all this time was enough to make her day all the brighter. The prospect of seeing Granger's face when she found out the truth brought a smile to Pansy's face. Oh, she'd definitely be there for the revelation. That was the one thing in the world she wouldn't miss. And with those thoughts in mind, she stepped out of Lucius's mansion, and into the now splendid sunshine of the morning. 

****************

Harry peered out the window of the Sunset Inn, staring into the clear blue sky. _If only the real world was as perfect as it seemed on the outside. _He had arrived in Derbeville, a town two and a half miles from the Malfoy estates, only an hour ago. Having found Sunset Inn to be the only inn in town, he had decided to settle there. It would give him an adequate amount of time to investigate and plan Hermione's rescue. Malfoy had given him a week, which meant that he had seven days in all. He would start out the first day by asking around the village for any information regarding Hermione. 

The thought of what she might be going through at that very moment caused Harry's gut to twist with anguish. He blamed himself as much as Malfoy for her abduction. If only he hadn't been so stupid and had kept her by his side, instead of pushing her away right into the hands of the enemy. Learning from past mistakes, Harry promised himself that once he got Hermione back, he would deny her nothing, giving her the full affection from him that she deserved. As for Malfoy, he would destroy him, along with the rest of his family, for attempting to hurt the woman he loved. There will be no mercy. Harry smiled grimly at the prospect, feeling ice-cold rage rush through his veins, relishing in it. 

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter? Your room is ready." Harry turned abruptly at the sound of the female voice behind him. It was Marlaine, daughter of the old innkeeper. Looking into her pretty face, he smiled graciously, holding his previous anger in check. 

"Thank you, Marlaine. I'll be up shortly." 

Blushing pink, the girl turned and hurried out of the room, golden locks catching the sunlight as she flounced away. If circumstances weren't so crucial, Harry would have been rather amused by her obvious interest in him. However, this was not so, for his task was too sobering to joke about anything. Sighing, he picked up the knapsack holding all his belongings, heading for the stairs to his room. 

"Ack, those darned Malfoys, aint know what's comin' their way that's fer sure. One day, they'd be cuddlin' like a buncha sick puppies, and th' next thing ya know, the other one's been caught cheatin'". 

Not believing what he'd just heard, Harry turned towards the direction of the voice, finding two old men by the fireplace, conversing with one another. Hardly believing his luck, he strode over to where they sat. Both men seemed in their late sixties or early seventies, each with crooked, emaciated figures. The one who had spoken looked up, scowling at Harry's sudden intrusion.

"Off wi' ye! Whadya think yer doin' here, listenin' on our conversation?" 

"I'm sorry to intrude on you sir, but I thought I overheard you talking about the Malfoys," Harry said anxiously. "You were saying something about someone cheating…?"

Luckily, the old man was one of the common gossipers who loved to show off what they knew around town, and was more than happy to give the information Harry was looking for. 

"Weeell, if ye be interested in me stories, then I guess it'd be alright fer ye to stay. See here now, there's this gal in town, she be one o'the maids fro' Malfoy Manor. Las' night she was runnin' an errand an' overheard sumthin' bout a fight b'tween heir Malfoy an' that hoity-toity fiancée o' his. Seems there be another gal there too. Couldn't tell though, th' argument wuss behin' them bedroom doors. Then jus minutes later, Miz Pansy comes out, shoutin' sumthin' bout how master Draco can have his sluts if he wanted, but she aint goin' take it no more." 

Hearing what the old man had just said, Harry's head began to swarm with possibilities. What if the _other_ girl… No, it couldn't be possible. But...

"Are you sure this is exactly what happened, sir?" 

The man became slightly indignant at Harry's tone of doubt. "O'course I'm sure. If ye dun trust me, then go an' ask the maid herself. She'll set ye straight, she will."

"And who's this maid? Where does she live?" Harry asked anxiously. 

"See yonder street out th'window? Go straight up, an' ye'll find a lil' yellow house. That'd be hers. Ask fer Marie. Now off with ye, I've no time fer yer silly questioning." 

Having gotten all the information he needed, Harry gave his thanks to the old man, leaving the inn in search of his next clue.

****************

From the window in his second floor office, Draco had a perfect view of Hermione, observing the plants in the garden below. His heart clenched at the sight of her beauty, knowing that innocence and beauty would be shattered once he did what he had to do. Even now, he was still confused by the feelings she conjured in him. But there was no time to think about such things, he told himself. Everything was going according to plan. In less than a week, Potter and Voldemort, his two most bitter enemies, would be destroyed. And was that not what he had always wanted? But if so, then why the sinking feeling in his heart? Why the regret? 

His gaze once again strayed to Hermione down below. She was sitting on a stone bench, observing the rare Andalusian plant his mother had always loved to grow. What would become of her when all this was over? She would have found out the truth by then, and all the trust and affection that he had gained from her would be gone. In place would be hatred, soul-shattering and deep. He did not think he could bear that. What was he to do? In all his life, the one thing Draco had learned was that one did not fall for the enemy. 

_Is that what I've done? _Not for the first time, he wondered if he had actually fallen in love with Hermione without even his noticing. _Nonsense._ He was not capable of love, had lost the capacity for it when he had realized the truth about his unworthy birth. He was the product of violence and rape, of fear and hatred. A person like him was not made to love in the first place, did not _deserve_ to love. Besides, nothing would ever come of their relationship. He was engaged to be married; there was no room in his life for her. But no matter how much he drilled that into his head, he could not stop the quickening of his heartbeat whenever he was near her, or the feeling of pure happiness when in her company… _Dammit. He _was _in love with her._

Even while his head denied it, Draco knew the truth deep down inside his heart, had always known it in some part of his subconsciousness. He had always been in love with Hermione, ever since Hogwarts. Then, he had used scorn to cover up his feelings for her. He had been too unprepared to accept the truth during that stage, but dear god, he was twenty-three now and it was about time he came to terms with his feelings. But the one lingering question now was, how was he supposed to betray the woman he loved? 

****************

The garden at Malfoy Manor was not the usual orangery and rose bushes. In the eyes of a muggle, it would seem like any ordinary jungle, with its wild and exotic plants. Yet to her long-trained witch's eyes, the plants were more than just that. They held an aura of mystery, as if hiding a past secret. Kneeling down to observe the nearest plant, Hermione suddenly felt strong arms encircle her waist. 

"Having fun?" The deep huskiness of Draco's voice suddenly rendered her muscles weak, his warm breath fanning the nape of her neck. Rising, she turned around, laying her head against his chest. The feel of him around her gave her a sense of comfort she had never felt before. 

"You should go inside, Hermione. There's no guarantee that you'll be completely safe out-of-doors. Voldemort may easily gain access to the gardens." 

Hearing the sudden strain in his voice, Hermione raised her head, looking into his troubles blue eyes. 

"There's something bothering you, Draco. Tell me what it is."

For a brief moment he hesitated, as if reluctant to speak. Then, all of a sudden, the words came out in a rush of emotion. 

"I don't want any harm to befall upon you, ever, do you understand, Hermione? I don't know what I would do if anything does. I think I'd…"

"Shh, no more." She pressed her hand against his lips, stopping the flow of words. In return, he kissed it, nibbling at the sensitive area of her palm. His kisses slowly trailed from her hand, up her arms, over her shoulders, and finally on her lips. As their mouths fused together, Hermione felt a jolt of desire tear through her, causing her to shudder. He was sweet, so sweet… 

And suddenly, he broke the kiss, startling her. His gaze became urgent, as if in earnest. A look of indecisiveness crossed his features for one scant instant, but was soon replaced by hard-set determination. Hermione could feel his distress, coursing through his veins, tightening every nerve. 

"There's something else, isn't there, Draco? Tell me what it is. Please."

Taking a step closer, he enclosed her small hands within his. "Alright then, Hermione. I just need you to answer this one question: are you still in love with Potter?"

Unprepared for his spontaneous question, she was left speechless, rooted to the ground like one of the garden plants. She did not know what to say; it was as if her brain had suddenly stopped functioning. When moments passed and she still made no answer, Draco suddenly released her hands and began to back away. 

"I knew it. You _are_ still in love with him." Turning from her, he began to stride back to the house, and then abruptly stopped in his tracks. Not bothering to turn around, he said to her, in a cool, composed voice, "It was foolish to think that there can ever be anyone but him."

Underneath the apparent coolness of his voice, she sensed his pain and torment. _What are you doing, Hermione?_ She couldn't just let him leave like this, not without telling him how she felt first. 

She was not in love with Harry, not anymore. For, ever since she had set eyes on Draco during that fateful masquerade ball, her heart was already conquered by another. And he was the only one she loved now, him and no other. Dear God, she had to tell him this, she had to!

"Draco!" Calling out his name, Hermione ran to him, not caring anymore about the consequences.

At the sound of her voice, he whirled around, eyes widening as she threw herself into his embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around him. 

"Don't go," she whispered against his chest, "I need you." Her voice was raw, so full of emotion… Draco could only dare to believe… Pushing her head back from his chest, he stared deeply into her eyes, the only window to her soul. 

"Do you love him?" he whispered hoarsely, desperately.

Her eyes swimming with tears, she gazed at him steadily, shaking her head. 

"No," she whispered back, "not as long as you have my heart." Tears streamed down her face, staining her cheeks.

He could not believe what he had just heard. Her words froze him in place, causing him to lose composure. It couldn't be…Dear God, she, _Hermione, _had just openly confessed her love for him! Crying out in joy, he pulled her back into his embrace, crushing her to his chest, never wanting to let her go. This was where he wanted her to be, by his side, forever.

They stayed within one another's arms for what seemed like an eternity, each loathe to part from the other. It was Hermione who finally pulled away, looking deeply into Draco's intense blue eyes. There was something in them, an expression she could not quite comprehend. She saw adoration, devotion, but there was also an odd sense of determination there. As if making a silent promise… 

Staring into her innocent, trusting eyes, Draco felt all his previous resolutions melt, all his well-thought plans turn into dust. He could not, _would_ not betray her. She was too valuable for him to lose, no matter what the consequences. Sooner of later, the fires of hell would eventually consume him, yet he didn't care. To have her now was what he wanted, needed, _craved_. She was his eternal salvation. And even if he could not keep her forever, at least he would have the memory of what heaven had been like. It would be burned into his memory forever…

With a sudden, swift movement, he lifted her into his arms and began to carry her back into the house, his strides fast and determined. Her arms snaked around his neck, clinging onto him like a lifesaver. They both knew the short limit of their happiness, and each wanted to cherish what small amount of time they had together. For when the time came that they had to part their separate ways, there will be no turning back. 

*****************

The yellow house was not hard to find, being the only Tudor-style house that was still existent in town. It was large and spacious, yet old and worn. The paint was peeling, the walls cracked with age. The roof no doubt leaked on rainy days. 

Walking up the crooked steps, Harry came upon the front door, knocking twice to see if anyone was home. Immediately, he heard light, brisk footsteps approaching, and moments later, the door was thrown open, revealing a thin young girl, around the age of eighteen. At the sight of Harry, her small, dark eyes turned from expectant to questioning. 

"Who're yew?" 

Hearing the obvious suspicion in the her voice, Harry smiled reassuringly, extending his hand out to her. 

"I'm truly sorry to bother you, miss. Are you Marie? My name is Harry Potter. If you do not mind, I need your assistance regarding a very crucial matter." 

She stared down at his extended hand, the look of suspicion on her face deepening.

"I dunno what yew mean, sir." 

"I was informed that you work for the Malfoys, am I correct?" At her reluctant nod, he continued, "Then if so, would you kindly answer several questions regarding last night's events?" 

At his last remark, the girl blanched, as if seeing a ghost. She took a few steps back, reaching for the doorknob. Catching her sudden movement, Harry seized her hand, grasping it tightly. 

"Listen, this may sound incredible, but you are the only person who can help me. Someone very important to me may be in danger from the Malfoys. I know you overheard something from Master Draco's room last night, and I need you to tell me exactly what it was. Please." His voice had turned hoarse, his eyes becoming desperate. 

Seeing his sudden desperation, the girl finally, reluctantly, relented. 

"But yew have to promise not to tell anyone about this, or I lose me job."

"You have my word." 

Assured by his promise, she began her account of the previous night's events. 

"Yew see, I was just passin' the hallway when I heard shouting comin' from Master Draco's room. It seemed there were two others wi' him, both female. One o' them was screamin' about the other bein' a whore. The one who was screamin' sounded a lot like Miss Pansy. An' I think the other one's name was sumthin' like Herm… ach, I can't remember."

"Was it Hermione?" Harry asked tensely. 

"Yes, Hermione! That's it. So as I was sayin' the argument got louder, an' then all of a sudden, there was bangin' and a few minutes later, Miss Pansy came out. After that, the room b'came silent, and that's that."

In his head, Harry reviewed all the information he had just heard. _And that's that?_ What would Hermione be doing in his room in the first place? And what happened after Pansy left? A chill suddenly swept over his body. Dear God, if Draco even laid a _finger_ on her… 

"Sir? Are yew alright?" The girl stared at him with concern, as if regarding a deranged or wounded animal. 

Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked at the girl, a plan suddenly forming in his head. It would be risky, but there was no other way. For Hermione's sake…

"When are you on duty for the Malfoys?" he suddenly asked, earnestly. 

"Now why d'ya want to know that for, mister?" Her tone was questioning, yet there was a hint of understanding in her eyes. 

"Why?" he asked, laughing ruefully. "Because I'll be needing _you_ to gain entry to Malfoy estates, _tonight_." 

Oh gosh, guys, I'm soooo sorry that this took forever to write. I feel really bad for making everyone wait so long. I know you don't like to hear all my lame explanations, yadda, yadda, yadda, so I'll spare you this time. BTW, in case you haven't noticed, there's a major contradiction in this part. (Hint: notice that the maid was surprised to find out that Harry knew about her eavesdropping) Anyway, this edition was sort of lacking, I know. I'll really try to do a better job next time. Oh yeah, and tell me if I should continue my vampire series, because it seems that not a lot of people favor it. Well, till next time, folks! R/R J


	11. Made of You Pt 11

Made of You Part 11

Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters.

The invisibility cloak wrapped tightly around him, Harry stole along the dark, narrow path leading up to Malfoy Manor, guided by Marie. The night was cool and crisp, yet somehow evoking a sense of tension. And indeed there was tension in the air. He could feel it in his blood, in his very bones. For this night, he would uncover the ugly secrets of the Malfoys, and destroy them. At that very moment, the thought of Draco Malfoy was enough to send his blood boiling. Harry tried to keep his anger in check, not wanting to let emotion overrule judgment. For in the end, common sense was his only trustworthy weapon. 

As the trail progressed, it gradually turned into an upward slope. Harry found that they were now ascending the hill upon which was Malfoy Manor. He had heard many stories about this road, none of which was pleasant. But to his utter surprise, not the slightest obstacle hindered their path as they went on their way. It was too calm to be normal. Something had to be afoot. Yet they finally reached Malfoy Manor safely, without the slightest hindrance. _This was too easy_, Harry thought to himself_. There has to be some trick…_

However, at the sight of the formidable mansion, all suspicion and unease were wiped away, replaced by anger. Gazing up at the many soulless windows, Harry wondered which one Hermione was trapped behind. Next to him, Marie sensed his growing distress, and gripped his wrist to refrain him from doing anything rash. 

"Not so fast, Mr. Potter. It isn't that easy to get into the house. The door's heavily guarded by a spell, which only recognizes certain presences. If you go in there like this, you'll surely be attacked."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" he whispered, frustrated. "How the hell am I going to get into the house then?" 

Sighing, the maid reached under her blouse, pulling out an emerald amulet hanging on a thin gold chain. The jewel was oval-shaped, secured by what appeared to be lion claws carved in gold. Unclasping the chain from her neck, she took off the amulet, extending it out to Harry. 

"Take this. The spell recognizes this jewel. Keep it with you the entire time you're in there. If not, then I won't be able guarantee your safety." 

Extending his hand out, Harry received the amulet with reluctance, loathing to accept anything belonging to the Malfoys. As he clasped the chain around his neck, the jewel started to glow, emanating an iridescent green light, which strangely gave him a sense of dread. Mentally, he began to prepare himself for the task ahead, making Hermione the sole focus of his mind. He was going to claim her back tonight, even if it killed him in the process. 

Squaring his shoulders, he turned to face the front entrance of the mansion, with its massive foreboding doors, ready to enter. Just then, Marie's hand reached from behind, clasping Harry's hand in hers. 

"Be careful," she whispered softly. Her tone as well as her expression bespoke worry and doubt, the former more so than the latter. 

"I will," he said, touched by her apparent concern. "Thank you." 

*******************

_Something was wrong_. Seated in the mansion's drawing room, Hermione felt a sense of foreboding, as if disaster was about to occur. And no matter how hard she tried, she could not rid herself of the eerie premonition. Rising from the armchair, she began to pace, too distraught now to sit. __

_Where was Draco?_ In the middle of the afternoon, he had been called out on business, leaving her behind to tour the mansion. Upon his departure, Hermione had experienced a sudden plummet in her spirits. In an attempt to keep herself occupied in his absence, she had taken on an expedition to explore every little corner of the house. It had been exciting at first, for she had never thought in her wildest dreams that she would ever have the chance to tour Malfoy Manor. Every single room had been beautifully furnished, with rich tapestries and expensive furniture. However, to Hermione's utter dismay, no matter how beautiful each room seemed to be, it somehow always evoked a sense of gloom. She had imagined how it had been for Draco, living in a house devoid of sunshine, a house where fear and dread were as permanent residents as the owners. 

Her mind shifting back to Draco, she wondered where he could possibly be at such a late hour. His absence did nothing to soothe her worries; in fact, she felt as if her sense of unease was caused by it. It also did not help to note that the stiff and unfriendly butler had taken a bitter dislike to her. More than once, he had passed her several suspicious glances, as if expecting her to do something damnable. And with Draco gone, it seemed as if she had no more purpose in the house. Which also led her to the troubling problem of their hopeless relationship. How was it ever going to work between them? Was their love strong enough to withstand so many obstacles? 

She was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts by a scratching noise outside the room. It had come from directly behind the door, and presently, Hermione inched away from it, sensing trouble. She held her breath, waiting for the door to open and reveal the intruder. However, minutes passed and it still stayed closed. She began to wonder about her state of mind. The effects of the house were definitely starting to get to her, she thought with a rueful smile. Shaking her head in dismissal, she once again began to pace the room. 

However, when she was halfway across the room, the door suddenly burst wide open. Before she knew it, Hermione was tackled and pinned to the floor. The wind knocked out of her, she did not even try to decipher who it was that was on top of her . Then, as her mind cleared, so did her vision. Gasping in shock, she suddenly found herself face-to-face with the one man whose face she would never forget. 

"Harry?!"

"Hermione!"

For a moment, they merely stared at one another. Hermione found that she could not tear her eyes away from him. What was he doing here? Her mind was spinning, unable to form any coherent thought. Instead, she gazed at him in utter shock for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he was the one who broke the silence. 

"Are you alright? Have they hurt you, Hermione?"

Maybe her mind _was_ shocked out of coherency, she thought, for his words did not make any sense to her. Still unable to form an answer on her lips, she continued to stare at him dumbly. He seemed to panic at her lack of response.

"What've they done to you?!" he cried urgently, shaking her slightly.

Suddenly snapping back into her senses, she shoved him off of her, backing away in an attempt to stand up. 

"You're not making any sense, Harry. And what are doing here?" 

His eyes widened incredulously at her response. 

"Have they bewitched you? I'm here to get you out of this place!" 

Comprehension suddenly hit her. _Of course._ He thought she had been kidnapped here. No wonder he was here to 'rescue her'. Sighing, Hermione began to relay the story of what had happened since the night of the Harding Ball. Somehow, she carefully avoided telling him of the many times she had been more than intimate with Draco. 

As her story progressed, Harry's expression turned from surprise to one of disbelief. By the time she had finished the account of her story, he had become livid. Sucking in his breath, he strove for calm. 

"Harry?", she asked uncertainly. 

"How could you be so gullible, Hermione?! Don't you know that this is just a trick to get to me? Since when do you trust the Malfoys?" His face had become dark, his eyes flashing like green lightning. 

"Oh, and since when do things _always _have be an ulterior motive to get to you?" She had become angry herself, annoyed at his hotheadedness and his refusal to see her side of the situation.

Taken aback by her unexpected anger, Harry inched back slightly, unsure of what to say. Seeing his sudden vulnerability, Hermione's tone softened. 

"Listen, Harry. I know you still suspect Draco. I did too, at first. But I know now that he's really changed; he's not who he used to be." 

For a long span of time, he remained silent, as if trying to take in her words. His face was torn with different conflicting emotions: anger, disbelief, confusion. When at last he spoke, it was with cool, detached calmness. 

"Just answer me this then, Hermione: are you coming or are you staying?" 

Looking into his eyes, she detected deep, running emotions under the apparently cool tone of his. _But why?_ Could he still possibly have feelings for her? Feelings that she herself had now given to another? 

"I'm sorry, Harry. I cannot go with you." 

"_Why can't you_?" He had suddenly taken hold of her shoulders, and was shaking her lightly, his gaze intent on her face. 

Hermione averted her gaze from his, trying to hold back her tears. "Because…" God, she did not want to hurt him, but he had to know. "Because I love him!", she blurted out, the tears now streaming down her face. 

He blanched at her words, his eyes going wide in disbelief. Dropping his hands from her shoulders, he began to back away from her. The look of betrayal was apparent on his face. 

"How could you be so foolish?", he whispered hoarsely. "Don't you know that you've given your love to a man who's going to destroy you?" 

"No, Harry", she said, shaking her head, "I love him, and he loves me. Please understand." 

Seeing her standing there, beautiful as always, with tears in her eyes, was just too much for him to take in. Her previous confession still ran loudly in his ears. It was just as he'd thought: Hermione had moved on.And it was all his fault. But if he had learned anything from past mistakes, he would not stand by and let her destroy herself like he had stood by and watched their relationship get destroyed. 

"No, Hermione. Draco does not love you." 

"Please, Harry", she said, her face crumbling again into tears, "do not make this harder than it has to be."

He knew then what was necessary. Taking out a crumpled sheet of paper from his back pocket, he handed her the ransom letter that Malfoy had sent him a few nights ago. At first, she did not take the letter he offered, but merely stared at it. After a few moments she finally, hesitantly, took the letter in her hands and began to read its content. 

As she read, the color began to drain from her face. Her once crimson cheeks had turned into a deathly pallor. Harry saw that her hands shook. After finishing off the last sentence, Hermione let the letter drop to the floor, eyeing it dully. And suddenly, her knees buckling, she collapsed onto the floor. 

But before she hit the ground, Harry stepped forward, catching her in his arms. He locked his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. Her body was limp and cold, lifeless. Gazing down at her face, he saw that her skin was tinged with a deathly shade of green. Her eyes were like those of a doll, staring blankly ahead into space. He shook her slightly in an attempt to stir her out of shock. 

"Hermione?," he whispered, patting her cheek slightly. It was ice-cold. "Hermione, can you hear me?" 

As if not hearing him at all, she continued to stare into space. Then gradually, she began to shake her head, slightly at first, then more vehemently. 

"No…it's a lie…you're lying!" Shoving him away from her, she leaped to her feet, grabbing hold of the letter. Once it was in her hands, she tore it up into tiny pieces, then threw it into the fireplace. Her energy spent, she sagged into an armchair, covering her face in her hands. Harry cursed himself, knowing he had broken her heart for the second time, even though this time was much different from the last. Striding over to where she sat, he knelt down next to her, putting his arms around her. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you, but you had to know." He placed his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort. 

"_Had to know what?_" At the sound of the third voice, both Harry and Hermione whipped around to find Draco standing at the threshold of the room, gray eyes blazing. 

Standing up to his full height, Harry sauntered over to him with a deadly expression on his face. The two men sized each other up, like two bulls about to clash. 

"I'm taking Hermione away from here, Malfoy. And there's nothing you can do to stop me." His voice held one of triumph, daring to be challenged. However, Draco's lips merely curled into a dangerous smile that did not quite reach his eyes. 

"Very well, Potter. That's only _if_ she's willing to go with you." 

While all this passed, Hermione merely sat in the armchair, frozen with indecision. Now, hearing his words, something inside of her suddenly snapped. Leaping up from the chair, she threw herself at Draco and began pummeling his chest with bawl-up fists. 

"You bastard! How could you _do_ this to me?!" She was sobbing uncontrollably, all control on her emotions lost. The letter had proved his betrayal once and for all. And all she could think about was how she had been duped for a second time. _A fool, an utter fool. _

"Stop!", Draco shouted, grabbing her by her wrists and shaking her. "What's this all about?" But despite his tone of confusion, Hermione saw that his expression was strained, his complexion unusually pale. 

"Don't touch me!", she shouted, wrenching herself away from him. "Don't you _ever_ touch me again!" By now, she was shaking, all rationality lost. "You filthy liar! All this time, you fooled me into believing that you actually _cared_ for me, when in reality…" She broke off abruptly, once again breaking down into sobs. 

"Listen, Hermione," he said, agonized. "It's not what you think…" 

"Then what is it?!", she cried hysterically. "You mean to tell me that the ransom letter you wrote to Harry was fake, is that it? Oh God, what a fool I am!" she cried, covering her face with her hands. 

Draco flinched at her words, for he knew that she would never believe him now. The letter was the sole proof of his guilt, and because of that, the truth didn't matter anymore. No matter what he said, she would never believe him. It was useless now. 

From behind, Harry gently pulled Hermione into his arms, stroking her hair in comfort. Draco's jaw clenched at the sight of them, unable to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. 

"You don't understand," he finally said, in a low voice. "I _do_ love you." 

"Quit the theatrics, Malfoy," Harry said hotly. "We all know it's me that you're really after, so from now on, just keep Hermione out of this." Gently, he disentangled himself from her, and stepped forward. "Now let's get this over with."

At his remark, Draco's mouth twisted into an unpleasant smirk. "As you wish then, Potter." Taking out his wand, he readied it for attack, waiting for Harry to do the same. For a moment, the two men stared at one another, each with a cold sneer on his face. 

Watching them, Hermione realized the imminent danger of such a duel. Only one deadly curse from one of them, and the other would be dead. It was impossible to come out with two survivors. And at this point, either one of them could be the victor…or the loser. It was her job to stop this. She suddenly threw herself between the two, turning to Draco with an expression of pure hatred. 

"Haven't you done enough to me already? Do you have to wreak havoc on everyone's lives?" Her words rang loudly in his ears, and for a moment, he froze. God, how had love turned so drastically into hatred in such a short period of time? And right then, he knew that he could not go through with this. He could not bear the thought of her hating him more than she already did. 

Dropping the wand from his hand, he gestured to the door instead. "Go then," he said harshly. "The both of you. Before I change my mind." As he said these words, he felt a cold emptiness creep into his heart, as if a fire had been distinguished. 

"You can quit playing the gentleman, Malfoy. We're settling this here and now", Harry said firmly. "I'll be damned if I don't bring down you and your whole family tonight."

Whipping around, Hermione gave Harry a worn, defeated look. "Please, no more. Just take me away from here. I'm begging you." The look of desperation on her face was enough to break anyone's heart.

"Very well," he said, slowly, reluctantly. "But this isn't over between you and me, Malfoy. One day, I'm going to settle this with you once and for all. You can count on it." 

Then, taking Hermione by the arm, he led her out of the room, the house, and out of Draco's life. 

********************

Stumbling along the road which led them out of Malfoy Estates, Hermione found that she could not stop the tears that flooded down her cheeks. Her heart ached, terribly so. She could not get herself to speak, for fear of breaking down completely. Next to her, Harry was silent but agonized, not knowing what to say to her. At that moment, a small part of her hated him as well. She would rather have continued to bedeceived by Draco than to have Harry break the news of his betrayal to her. And him, of all people, the man who had initially brought her to this predicament. Clenching her fists, she increased her pace, putting more distance between them. 

Walking beside her, Harry found that he did not know what to do. He knew he was the second to last person she wanted to be with right then. And not for the first time, he cursed himself for playing such a big part in her heartache. This was the woman he loved. But instead of cherishing her, he had literally thrown her to the sharks, letting her get entangled with Malfoy. 

Each engrossed in their own thoughts, neither one of them heard the rustle in the nearby bushes. Then before they knew it, they were suddenly surrounded by a group of death-eaters, with Lucius Malfoy in their midst. The cold smile on his face was enough to make one shudder. Cursing, Harry pulled Hermione in back of him, blocking her from Lucius. The older man merely laughed at this, apparently amused. 

Taking out his wand, Harry pointed it directly at him. 

"Let us pass," he whispered in a low, threatening voice. But inside, however, he knew that there was no way he could defeat all those death-eaters. The most he could do was make sure of Hermione's safety.

"And why should I?", Lucius laughed mirthfully. "Do you really think you can actually stop me?" And with a wave of his hand, the death eaters moved into action. Trying to fight them off, Harry muttered a spell, immobilizing nearly half of them. But in the end, he was outnumbered. Two death-eaters tackled him from behind, pinning him to the ground. To his left, he heard Hermione suddenly cry out in pain. Twisting his head, he saw that two other death-eaters had grabbed and twisted her arms behind her back, immobilizing her. From a distance, Lucius watched all this with an amused expression on his face. Fighting them tooth and nail, Harry attempted to break free from thier hold, which only earned him a few kicks in the ribs. Finally, he collapsed against the ground, exhausted and gasping for breath. 

"Do what you want with me, but just let Hermione go", he said through clenched teeth. Lucius' lips twisted mirthfully at his words. Walking over to Hermione, he stroked her face delicately with his fingertips. She flinched at is touch, pulling her face away from him. 

"Hmm, such a little beauty we have here, Potter. It's not a wonder that you're so infatuated with her. I would be too, if I could still…_perform_ as well as I used to." Taking her chin roughly between his thumb and forefinger, he twisted her head until they were eye-to-eye. 

"So how was it like with my son, hmm? Did he give it to you nice and slow?" He chuckled softly at the expression of pure hatred on her face. Bending towards her, he attempted to kiss her lips. But before he was able to, Hermione suddenly kicked him, hard, in the groin. Doubling over in pain, he cursed furiously, shielding his wounded area with both his hands. 

"Kill her! Now!", he managed to pant out to the death-eaters. Instantly, they began to form a circle around Hermione. One of them produced a wand from his sleeve, pointing it at Hermione. Then, to both Harry and Hermione's surprise, the death-eater drew down his hood. To their further shock, they realized that it was not a _him_, but a _her_. It was Pansy. 

"Didn't I tell you that you would pay, you little slut?" The cold sneer on her face was enough to make Hermione's blood run cold. "Now I'm going to make my words come true."And raising the wand, she chanted the words of the fatal curse. 

*********************

Staring into the fire that blazed in the hearth, Draco was lost in his own pain. He felt severed from everything he had ever cared about. His mother, Hermione… Picking up his wineglass, he down the remaining whiskey in it. It burned a path down his throat and chest, right to the pit of his stomach. He relished the feeling. _Anything to take away the pain. _

By now, Hermione was probably with Harry and far out of his life forever. He winced at the thought of them together. But he knew he had brought this upon himself. If only he had not fallen for the wrong woman…. Sighing, he closed his eyes, ignoring the throbbing in his temples. It was for the best, he thought to himself. It would not have worked out in the end anyway. She would have gone back to her muggle world, and he to Pansy and life as a Malfoy. Their roads would have forked eventually. 

_But was it worth it not letting her know the truth?_ The mere memory of Hermione's stricken face was enough to make his heart clench. He had felt her pain as if it was his own, and would have done anything to take it away from her, if only she would believe him. But it was too late for that. 

Thinking back on his life now, Draco suddenly realized all the wrong paths he had taken, making him what he was now. And just like everything else, it was too late to change. He was what he was: the Malfoy heir, dark and evil in every sense. No matter how much he denied it, the truth would stay that way forever. 

Suddenly, in the midst of his misery, a flash of pain sliced through his chest. It was so intense that, for a moment, he was utterly immobilized. The pain was accompanied by a feeling of dread, as if disaster was about to strike. And in his very gut, he knew that Hermione was in danger. It was absurd, but all his instincts told him that it was so. Forgetting his own problems for the time being, he rose from the armchair, retrieved his wand, and strode out the door, hoping he would not be too late this time, as he was wont to be. 

*********************

As Pansy chanted the fatal spell, Hermione closed her eyes, ready to accept her fate. Just then, something knocked her off her feet, causing her to crash to the ground. Everything else after that was a blur to her. It seemed that someone had come to their aid and was immobilizing the majority of the death-eaters. Harry had broken free from the death-eaters' hold, and was also using his wand to fend against their foes. Pansy had stepped over to the side, and was watching the scene with undisguised terror. As for Lucius, he was barely able to rise from her previous kick to his royal jewels. 

Within minutes, all the death-eaters were knocked down.It was then that Hermione realized it was Draco who had come to their aid. The danger having passed, he turned and went over to her, pulling her to her feet. His eyes skimmed her over with concern, as if genuinely caring about her welfare. She suddenly felt tears filling her eyes again. 

"Are you alright, Hermione?" His tone was soft and gentle, as if talking to a scared child. But before she was able to answer him, she was cut off by a mirthful laughter. At the sound of it, Draco spun around, finding the familiar, dreaded thick smoke filling the air. It gradually formed into a human shape, then turned into a solid figure. And before he even recognized the figure, Draco already knew who it was. _Voldemort._

Off to the side, Harry suddenly cried out in pain, clutching his head in his hands. The scar was reacting to the Dark Lord's presence again. Laughing cruelly, Voldemort sauntered over to where Harry was crouched, picking him up by the neck. He suddenly threw him against the cold ground, where he lay unconscious afterwards. 

"Harry!" Hermione gasped in horror. Beside her, Draco's muscles tensed in dread. However, seeing that Voldemort had arrived to his rescue, Lucius hobbled over to his lord, bending down on one knee and planting a kiss to the back of his hand. This turn of events had also caused Pansy to come out of the shadows, smiling smugly at Hermione. 

"I am sorry I have failed you, my lord," Lucius said apologetically. "As you can see, my son has betrayed us." At his words, the dark lord's hollow eyes suddenly swung to where Draco stood with Hermione. 

"So," he rasped out, "the heir of Malfoy has fallen for the bait, has he? Well now, how would you like to see the one you love suffer, hmm?" Taking his wand, he suddenly pointed it at Hermione, chanting the words to the Cruciatus Curse. Then, before he even knew he what he was doing, Draco had thrown himself in front of Hermione. The spell hit him, and instantly, he felt the effects of it. Indescribable pain wracked his entire body. With a hoarse cry, he collapsed onto the ground, shuddering uncontrollably. The pain was excruciating, like nothing he had ever felt before. 

"Draco!", Hermione cried. Going down on her knees, she tried to stop the shuddering, taking him into his arms, but it was useless. The spell was too strong; no matter how hard she tried, she could not take away the pain. It was hopeless. 

Just then, the sound of a broom was heard from above. Sparks flew down from the sky, hitting both Lucius and Pansy on the arm, causing them to drop their wands. Looking up, Hermione saw a wizard on broomstick.It was Ron, riding Harry's old firebolt. Diving low, he swooped Hermione into his arms and onto broom. Next, he swooped down a second time to pick an unconscious Harry up by the collar, pulling him onto the broom. And then with a kick to the side, they were off into the sky.

"Hold on, Hermione," Ron said with caution. "Three people on a broom is kinda stretching the limit, you know. Not to mention with an unconscious Harry who happened to gain some weight...." 

"Ron, we have to go back for Draco!" Hermione cried hysterically. "Voldemort used the Cruciatus curse on him, and he's helpless now!" 

"Malfoy?! No way, I'm not gonna risk my neck for him! Beside Herm, he's the enemy, remember?" 

"Please! You don't understand! _He got hit_ _because he_ _blocked me_!" From the desperation in his friend's voice, Ron knew that Hermione was serious. However, there was no way to go back now. 

"I'm sorry, Herm," he said with genuine regret, "it's impossible to go back at the present time. And besides, we couldn't fit him on the broom even if we were to go back now. But don't worry," he said with certainty, "we're going backnext chance we could." 

"No…by then it'll be too late," she responded dully, knowing that the worst was about to take place.

*************************

The pain on his arm was intense, yet he forced himself to his feet, walking over to the Dark Lord. 

"My lord, why did you not stop them?" 

"Why?" he answered in an amused voice. "Because letting them go will ultimately lure them straight back to me, my naïve servant. And this time," he said, looking over at the unconscious Draco on the ground, "the bait will be set at a higher price than ever before."

Looking down at his son, understanding suddenly dawned upon Lucius. And smiling back at his master, he knew that doomsday was quickly approaching for Harry Potter. 

Well, how'd it go? I'm so, so sorry about taking such a long time to post this up. It's just that I was too busy with schoolwork and yadda, yadda, yadda, you don't want to hear the rest… But I've compensated by making this chapter just slightly longer than all the others! =D Anyway, I think that the story is going to end within the next chapter or two. Then I can fully concentrate on my vampire series, or wherever my inspiration leads me. Say, what about a new story about James, Sirius, and gang? I mean, back in the old Hogwarts days? I might have a romance thing going on for the one I'm gonna write about. What do you think? Please R/R and tell me what you want to read, k? Always, thanks for the support! Bye!


	12. Made of You Pt 12

Made of You Part 12

Made of You Part 12

Author's Notes: Okay guys, I'm finally done with this chapter! I'm happy to say that this

is the second to the last chapter of the Made of You series. After this, 

I'm going to continue on with my vampire series, and then who knows? 

Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter, because I made it especially

long to compensate for the FOUR months of not writing! But be warned, 

this edition has some violent scenes in it, and a lot of angst. So if you are

quite young and do not like slight violence, then you should skip some 

of the parts. But to everyone else, enjoy!

Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters.

Exhausted and racked with despair, Hermione did not know when Ron's broom finally landed onto the ground in front of a worn yellow villa. Sagging against his back, she did not even make an effort to lift herself up. Her mind was numb, as was the rest of her body. Somehow, she preferred this numbness to the heartache she knew she would feel if her mind was in clarity. Her fatigue was imminent, for her eyes began to droop against her will to stay awake. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, hands, gentle but steady, pulled her off the broom. She felt herself being lifted into a pair of lean, muscular arms, but was too tired to wonder who it was. From a distance, she thought she heard the steady voice of Ron.

"Take her into the rooms and let her rest, Mac. She's been through enough for one night." It was strange, she thought, how his voice seemed to drift softer and softer still. Were her ears failing her?

"Don't worry. Marie'll take care of her. And what about mister Potter?" _Now who was that?_, she wondered. She tried to focus, but her head hurt too much whenever she tried to think. 

"Don't worry, I'll take care of Harry. Just make sure Ms. Granger is taken care of." Ron's voice again. 

"Aye, that I will." And that was the last Hermione heard, for the next thing she knew, she was being carried into the house. She knew it was a house, for the air grew warmer, and she thought she could faintly detect the smell of baked bread and butter. She was carried up a flight of steps and into a room. The person holding her gently placed her onto a soft, cushioned bed. Her body, worn and aching, responded to the softness of the mattress in gratitude. Not even realizing that the person had left the room, Hermione began to feel herself drift off to sleep. Yet somehow, before she was able to do so, an image flashed into her head, an image of a man with platinum blond hair and stormy gray eyes. Eyes mirroring suppressed agony… And then there was oblivion. 

The torture seemed to last for hours, yet Draco endured it in silence, unwilling to give the Dark Lord any satisfaction in knowing the pain he was going through. His arms and legs were chained against the wall by heavy-wrought iron manacles, which immobilized him. Yet even if he had been free to move, he would not have had the strength to do so, for the excruciating agony overpowered all else but the urge to cry out in pain. His entire body was covered in blood and sweat; he did not know which one there was more of. He had long lost track of the times the Dark Lord had used the Cruciatus Curse on him. Yet with every round, the pain seemed to increase with a rising pitch. He wondered how much more of this abuse his body could take before it would ultimately be left useless. 

Before him, loomed the Dark Lord, his hollow red eyes locked frigidly on Draco. "So, heir Malfoy, you thought I'd let you get away with betrayal so easily? You take me for a fool, is that it?" His lipless mouth twisted into what Draco perceived as a cold sneer, yet he could not tell for sure. "So this is how you show your gratitude for all the things I've done for your family? You weak, traitorous fool, you brought this upon yourself. I have no more use for you now other than expendable bait." Then, stepping back once more, he lifted his wand for the nth time, and once again incited the dreaded words of the deadly curse, words Draco had long memorized due to its constant repetition in the previous hours. Almost instantaneously, blinding sparks blurred his vision, and with it, came the unendurable pain. It was horrific, excruciating to the utmost extent. His body convulsed spasmodically, writhing in an attempt to escape the agony. It spread throughout his entire body, immobilizing every pore, from head to toe.Grunting in pain, he clenched his teeth in an effort to refrain from crying out. 

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the pain began to subside gradually. His body bathed in perspiration, Draco lifted his head and stared levelly at the Dark Lord, all the loathing present in his stormy gray eyes. "Why not do away with me now? Why all this trouble?" he rasped scathingly. There was the slightest hint of mockery present in his voice, challenging the Dark Lord to kill him right then. 

Laughing dismissively, Voldemort began to pace the dungeons, tapping his wand in the palm of his hand. Then turning abruptly back to Draco, he eyed him suspiciously, saying, "If I had wanted to kill you, I would have surely done so already. As it is, your worthless life happens to serve some other purpose for me at the moment. But do not think, my foolish traitor, that I will hesitate to kill you when the time comes." 

Sucking in a deep breath, Draco fought back the rage that threatened to consume him. He was smart enough to figure out why he was being kept alive. With Hermione out of Voldemort's grasp, there was no other way to bait Harry Potter. The only other solution was to hope that Hermione would come back to rescue him, and bring Potter along in the process. The plan was constructed well enough, thought Draco, except for one minor impairment: they had not counted on the possibility that Hermione was not coming back. _Those fools_. He thanked God then that she had found out about his betrayal just before the attack. Knowing her, she would never come back for a man who had deceived her as he had. And it was just as well. Better that she never came back than to have to face the Dark Lord. 

Yet even with this knowledge, Draco ached to see her for one last time. He ached to hear the sweetness of her voice, to feel the softness of her silk-smooth skin, to breathe in her jasmine-scented fragrance as he held her in his arms… _No_,he thought, shaking himself from such tormented images, he would not think about her now. Even in death, he would never think of her again. She had been a shooting star, and he was an utter fool to have thought that she would ever truly be his. In many aspects, she was a reminder to him of his own unworthiness, and in his opinion, he would rather be dead than to live with that knowledge his whole life. 

_Yes,_ Draco thought grimly, _death would be much better_. For what was life without the one person you would ever love? To him, it would be the equivalence of a living hell. And with that thought in mind, he made a silent resolve to himself then and there. Lifting his head abruptly, he stared straight into Voldemort's eyes, loathing and insolence reflected in his stormy gray gaze. 

"Do what you will then," he whispered menacingly, wishing with his soul that he had just signed his own death sentence. 

_Lethargy…such sweet, sweet heaven._ To be oblivious to the world around her was pure bliss for Hermione. She had chosen ignorance over knowledge, dreams over reality, for the truth was too painful to bear. What person wouldn't drive herself to the state of oblivion if they were under the same circumstances? Yet every once in a while, a flow of reality would wash in, like the waves of an inevitable tide being held back too long. She tried her best to hold them off, but the task became more difficult as the hours ensued. It was only a matter of time before the tidal wave broke over her gilded peace.

Presently, Hermione heard the soft creak of floorboards, and knew someone had come in. _Please do not disturb my peace,_ she prayed fervently, for she knew that if she was shaken back into reality, her heart would not be able to bear the horrific truth. However, her prayer was not to be answered. The footsteps progressed to where the windows were, and in the next instant, she felt warm rays of sunlight bathe her face. Frowning, she obstinately turned to her other side, putting her back to the sun. _Leave me be._

Unperturbed by her actions, the person walked over to the bed, stopping in front of Hermione's sleeping visage. Through hooded eyelids, Hermione saw worn, buckled shoes and a pair of long, slender legs. A moment later, she was being gently shaken, the hands on her shoulders warm and soft with patience. Opening her eyes, Hermione found herself staring at a slender young girl of no more than eighteen or nineteen years of age. She was slender, with light brown hair that reached to her shoulders and curled towards the bottom. She smiled warmly upon seeing Hermione, which made her green eyes glint like emeralds. _Another witch, perhaps?_

"So, you are finally awake." Her voice was soft and clear, much like that of a bell. It served to clear Hermione's mind of its final cobwebs, bringing her fully back into reality. Yet with the regaining of her senses, a sudden surge of panic ensued. 

"Where am I?" she managed to ask weakly. She found her voice to be low and raspy, mainly due to the dryness in her throat. Her body ached with exhaustion, despite the certainty that she had slept for more than was usual for her. 

"You are in my house," the young woman said patiently. "My name is Marie. Mr. Weasley brought you here late last night along with Mr. Potter, after an attack by death-eaters." 

_Death-eaters…_ The images came back now, blurred but comprehensible. Images of Harry in Malfoy Manor, the letter, Draco, Lucius and the ambush, Pansy, and finally, _Voldemort_… Dear God, it was all coming back to her now. Covering her face in her hands, she tried with all her will to block out the onslaught of memories, tears seeping through her clenched eyes. 

Above her, Marie waited quietly till her rush of emotion passed, then continued on. "In a way, I partly blame myself for what has passed." At her words, Hermione's body suddenly stiffened, tensing. Seeing her response, the maid sighed with an air of remorse, pausing briefly before progressing with her story. "Yes, I was partially at fault. You see, I was placed in Malfoy Manor by the Ministry of Magic several years ago, to serve as their maid. In truth, my sole purpose there was to spy for the Ministry. When I first began this task, the situation with the Dark Lord had not yet been so grave. I was not suspected, and my façade became one of the few valuable information that the Ministry had on the Dark Lord. Then, when Mr. Potter recruited my help in saving you, I became suspicious, for I knew he worked under Dumbledore, a man whose actions were not always wholeheartedly approved by the Ministry. Yet eventually, his genuine concern for your well-being finally convinced me to trust and aid him. It was through me that he was able to penetrate the many curses guarding Malfoy Manor. However, I blame myself for not warning him of Lucius when I had the chance to. If I had, none of this…" She suddenly broke off, seemingly disturbed by the knowledge of her folly. 

At the same time, Hermione was trying her best to listen without losing herself to her emotions once more. The memory of the previous night would forever be burned into her memory. Harry's arrival, Draco's betrayal, Lucius' attack, Voldemort's appearance, and then ultimately, Draco's sacrifice… The memory sent a chill down her spine. 

"Where's Draco?" she suddenly asked, a deathly pallor spreading over her face. Yet she already knew the answer, even before she had asked the question. She still recalled Ron's rescue, and how he had left Draco behind, choosing to save Harry instead. 

Turning away, Marie cast her eyes down to the floorboards, her countenance regretful. "He's in the Dark Lord's hands. We do not know what has been done to him, nor if he is even alive." Her words confirmed all of Hermione's horrors. He was under the hands of the Dark Lord. Oh God, how could this have happened? She knew she was a fool, for despite his betrayal, she found that she could not stop loving him, just like she could not stop herself from breathing in the air around her. But at the moment, concern for his well-being overshadowed the pain she felt from his betrayal. Right then, she would not have cared if he had betrayed her time and again, as long as he was alive and safe. 

"Is there any way to save him?" she finally asked, her eyes mirroring her desperation. Yet as she had feared, the maid did not answer, but merely shook her head in silent regret. The simple gesture was like a thousand knives piercing her chest. Unable to contain her emotions any longer, Hermione doubled over, racked by dry sobs, for her well of tears had finally been used up. 

Witnessing her imminent grief, Marie realized the full extent of Hermione's feelings for Draco Malfoy. When she had first seen them together in the mansion, there had been nothing but loathing in the young woman's countenance. Yet how had her feelings changed so drastically? She realized then that their affection for each other would be another hindrance for the Ministry. But who wouldn't be touched by such signs of pure devotion? Looking down at the grief-stricken girl, she decided that it was necessary to leave her alone for the time being. Without another word or distraction, she turned on her heels and treaded softly to the door, closing it behind her as she left. 

Left alone now, Hermione rolled back onto the bed, her body folded protectively into a fetal position. She felt ill, and the desire to retch was becoming stronger by the minute. Yet the sickness of her body was far outshadowed by the sickness in her heart. Dear God, why had she fallen in love with him, why? Even now, she could not erase the image of him from her mind, the way he looked into her eyes, the way he held her, loved her… She knew that if anything happened to him, she herself would not be able to go on. And once again, she wondered how many times a heart could break so thoroughly before it finally lost the ability to feel. 

She remained in that position for what seemed like hours, without the slightest movement, seemingly struck dumb by her grief. Then, like an outside intruder, the door suddenly opened, revealing a fairly disheveled Harry. For a moment, he merely froze at the door, uncertain of what to do. He knew she was hurting, yet did not know how to rid her of her pain. The only thing he knew was that he could not stand seeing her live like a soulless eggshell any longer.With determination, he finally stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him. Walking carefully towards Hermione, his eyes devoured her small, pitiful form upon the massive bed. He was shocked to see that she was only a shadow of what she used to be. Dark circles surrounded her once luminous eyes, making her look older than she seemed. Her skin was tinged with a deathly pallor, her lips devoid of its once rosy color. Unable to contain his anguish any longer, he suddenly swooped down upon her emaciated form, taking her into his arms. 

He cradled her silently, asking no questions and offering no explanations. He knew her grief was for Malfoy_, _and for no one else. Yet he could not fathom why she would still care for a man who had toyed her as bait, used her to achieve his own selfish means. It did not make any sense, yet it was an undeniable fact. Upon waking, Harry had found himself back in one of the rooms in Marie's villa, his head aching terribly. Ron had been by his side, and had wasted no time in recounting the events of the previous night to him. All he himself had remembered was the excruciating pain in his scar, caused by the arrival of Voldemort. Then he had passed out. Yet, according to Ron, Harry was not the only one whom the Dark Lord was after. For, after he had been done with him, Voldemort had attempted to use the Cruciatus Curse on Hermione. And if Malfoy had not thrown himself between her and the spell at the last minute, Ron's own rescue would have been impossible to pull off. 

Sitting on the bed, listening to the unraveling tale, Harry had felt wave after wave of shock seep into his very bones. And after learning of what Malfoy had done, the rest of the story had become drastically insignificant. He had then been haunted by one single, persistent chant in his head. _Malfoy had sacrificed himself for Hermione._ Dear God, it was unfathomable. Even the most fearless, experienced wizard had qualms in the face of the deadly Cruciatus Curse, no less a hideless Malfoy. The knowledge of this had brought on shame. Shame that he had not been the one to protect the woman he loved, instead passing out in the face of danger. The bitter fact only served to further prove his unworthiness. For, how was he ever going to live with himself, knowing that he was just an utter, useless fool? 

_Forget that, _he suddenly told himself._ Prove yourself to her now. Forget about the past; look into the future. _He pulled her closer to his chest then, in an act of possession, unwilling to let her out of his sight ever again. Nestled within his arms, Hermione did not make any move to encourage or discourage his actions. She merely lay limp in his embrace, too tired to react. They stayed that way for a long period of time. Then, extricating himself from her, Harry grasped her shoulders lightly, holding her at arm's length so he could stare into her eyes. Her brown gaze did not meet his, but merely darted sideways instead, focusing on some distant object. Unable to contain the silence any longer, Harry finally decided to speak up. 

"Why are you so sad, Hermione?" His words rang hollow, for he knew more than anyone else the reason for her grief. Wincing at his foolish choice of words, he continued awkwardly. "Are you not thankful that we are finally safe, _together?_ " At his last words, her eyes suddenly focused on him, and a flash of pain passed though its hazel depths. For a long moment, they merely stared at one another silently. Then, when she finally spoke, it was merely to say, 

"I need to return to Malfoy Manor." Eyes widening in shock, Harry did not reply to her statement. When long moments passed, and still he did not respond, she continued, by saying "I need to go back, for Draco." Her words were like ice water being thrown into his face. How could she think something as absurd as this, no less say it? But on closer speculation, he realized that her countenance had somehow gradually changed from despair to determination. 

"Why?" he finally asked, suddenly engulfed by bitterness. "Can it be that you still love him?" When she did not respond but merely looked away in guilt, his bitterness began to turn to bile. Pulling his hands away from her, he moved back to put distance between them. "How could you still care for him, after what he's done?" His words sounded resentful, even to his own ears, yet he did not care anymore. 

"Even if I do love him, I could never go back to him, don't you see, Harry?" Her eyes had darted back to his, and in them veiled the look of abject desperation. "He betrayed me, and I could never forget that. But he also sacrificed himself for me, and the least I can do is to give back what he has given me." 

For the briefest of moments, he paused, then said bitterly, "You still love him, don't you?"

"It doesn't matter," she said quietly. 

Suddenly engulfed by anger, he grabbed her by both wrists, pulling her up against him and shaking her with a passion he did not know he possessed. "To hell it doesn't," he whispered roughly, emerald eyes blazing. "Have you become a fool, Hermione? To fall for a man without morals, without a conscience…" 

"Stop it, please!" she yelled, pulling herself away from him. She stumbled back from the bed, her face covered in a mask of sorrow. "You don't understand, do you? Do you think I _want _to love him? Dear god, if only I could forget…" She suddenly broke off, unable to continue further. 

Sorely regretting his actions, Harry slowly moved forward, gently taking her back into his arms. He enfolded her in his embrace, stroking her soft hair the way he used to a lifetime ago. "I'm sorry, so sorry, love. Please forgive me. I did not mean to be so harsh to you. It's just that…" He paused, not wanting his voice to waver. "It's just that I love you so. Do you know that I have never stopped loving you, Hermione?" At his words, her body suddenly stiffened against his, tension seeping into it. "Yes," he laughed bitterly, "I was an utter fool to have let you go that cursed day five years ago. But you do not understand; I only wanted to protect you…" 

Pulling back, Hermione abruptly put her fingers to his lips, stopping his flow of words. "The past does not matter anymore, Harry. I have already forgiven you." 

"No," he replied fervently. "At least let me tell you the truth. I cannot rest with myself until you know the real reason why I pushed you away." His face was now set in hard determination, and nothing at the present moment could have deterred him from his decision. "You see, I lied to myself, Hermione. I pretended the only reason I wanted to send you away was for fear of your safety. I even convinced myself that having you by my side would be both a danger and a distraction to my work. What an utter fool I was then. The truth is, I was afraid, truly afraid. My whole life, I had never loved anyone before, save for my parents, who were only a fragment of my infant memory. And even with them, I only loved an image, never the real thing. Of course, I had friends, but none of whom I could truly say I loved. Then you came along, turning my scruples inside out… I didn't know how to react, Hermione. For once in my life, I experienced genuine, all-consuming love, and I did not know what to do with it. I was ecstatic, yet at the same time, more afraid than ever. Afraid that I would lose you like I had lost my parents. I couldn't bear that, do you not see? That was why I ultimately pushed you away, because of my own cowardice…" His voice trailed off, his mind lost in the misery of what he had done. 

Upon hearing his confession, Hermione found herself at a loss for words, and at the same time, felt a sense of guilt rise within her. If she had been her old self, she would have been overjoyed to learn that Harry still loved her. Yet this was not so, for she was far from the innocent girl she used to be. The Hermione who stood before Harry now was not the one he remembered back in Hogwarts, but the one whose heart, body, and soul now belonged to another. If her well of tears had not been dried up, they would surely have been streaming down her face by now. As it was, her eyes remained dry, yet they reflected the pain that he must have been feeling as well. Slowly, her hands reached up to his face and stroked his cheek gently. 

"I'm so sorry, Harry. You know I'll always love you as a friend, no matter what happens, and that I would die for you if I had to…"

"But you could never give me your love." he finished for her, smiling sadly. 

"I did love you once." she replied sorrowfully. 

"I know, and I was a fool to have let you go. But we shall always be friends, shall we not?" His face mirrored regret, yet there was the slightest glimmer of hope in its depth. 

"You know we will, always and forever." And with that, she leaned forward, kissing him tenderly on the forehead. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her soft lips against his skin, knowing that it might very well be the last time he ever felt them again. Wrapping his arms around her small form, he embraced her, putting all he had ever felt for her in that one, single action. The feel of her softness was heaven on earth. She was his angel, his sole savior, and he knew he would never fully forgive himself for letting her go. 

The tender moment was suddenly interrupted when a knock sounded on the door, causing them to pull back from one another. A second later, the door opened, revealing Ron. As usual, his hair was disheveled, his clothing tucked in at the wrong places. He sauntered in cheerfully, apparently unaware of his disturbance in an otherwise private moment. Stopping in front of Hermione, he grinned widely, pulling her into his arms for a quick bear-hug. 

"So, the sleeping beauty has finally awakened. I wondered how long it would take without a prince this time." Laughing, he pulled away, his eyes shining in playful merriment. "It's good to have you back Hermione, after all these years. Contrary to popular belief, we actually missed you." 

Hermione smiled feebly at his attempt in humor. "Thank you for your rescue last night, Ron. We would not have made it if it was not for you." She squeezed his hand affectionately in a gesture of gratitude. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to save Malfoy, Herm. It's not that I didn't want to, after witnessing what he did for you, but that I just couldn't, without the chance of risking all your lives." His voice was now regretful, devoid of any humor. 

"I understand," she replied quietly. "But I have decided to go back." Hearing her words, Harry, who had been silent until now, began to protest. . 

"Do not be foolish, Hermione Do you think to go up against Voldemort by yourself? You have witnessed his powers firsthand, and know that it is not something to be tampered with. And even if you were able to defeat him, there is no guarantee that Malfoy is still alive."

"Harry's right," Ron chimed in. "You're risking your life for a lost cause." 

"No, it's not a lost cause," she said with certainty, as if trying to convince herself. "Draco's _not_ dead. If he was, I would be able to feel it." At her words, both men exchanged a perplexed look at one another. "And I do not fear the powers of the Dark Lord. True, there may be a good chance that I will lose my life, but at least I will know that I had done something." Looking at her face then, both men knew it was useless to dissuade her from her goal. Yet before they could say anything, another knock sounded on the door. 

"Come in," Harry barked out impatiently. The door opened, revealing a somewhat distraught Marie. 

"Narcissa Malfoy is downstairs and she insists on seeing Miss Granger immediately. I do not know what to say to her." 

Harry and Ron both looked at one another, stunned and not knowing what to do. Hermione, on the other hand, reacted instantaneously and was out the door even before the others knew it. Running down the staircase, she suddenly found herself in the living room of the house. It was decorated with only two plain couches and an overstuffed armchair, which faced away from her. She suddenly realized that there was someone occupying the armchair. At the same moment, the person must have heard her advance, for she now rose from her seat and turned to face Hermione. 

At first sight, Hermione became stunned by the image before her. The woman standing in front of her was tall and elegant, her silk-woven platinum blonde hair twisted gracefully above her head, with a few stray wisps teasing the nape of her neck. The rays of the morning sun enhanced its silverness, forming a halo around her soft, heart-shaped face. Her skin was the color or purest ivory, white and undaunted by the passage of time. Her rosebud mouth was soft and supple, complimenting her gentle aristocratic features. Yet the most alluring feature were her almond-shaped eyes, mirroring the color of a storm-tossed sea, turbulent yet beautiful. She was the epitome of beauty, elegance and nobility, and Hermione found herself mesmerized by the presence of such a woman. But despite everything, there was an undeniable sense of sorrow that emanated from her being, intermixing with an air or long-sufferance. _So this was Narcissa Malfoy, mother of Draco._

Advancing forward, the older woman reached out, taking both of Hermione's hands in her own. She squeezed them affectionately and made an effort to smile, but the trace of tears in her eyes could not be missed. The once clear grayness had now been clouded over with a shadow of sorrow. When she finally spoke, it was with an obvious effort to keep her voice from wavering. "At last we meet, Hermione. My son has told me much about you." At the sudden mention of Draco, the pain that Hermione had been fighting to keep down surged forth again. Unable to respond, she merely nodded in silence. 

Releasing her hands, Narcissa, turned away, walking over to windows. She looked out at the lovely scenery before her, the flowers in pure blossom and the songbirds singing merrily. She remained silent for a long period of time, merely observing the outside world, as if such sunshine was rare to behold in her everyday life. When finally she spoke, Hermione detected the tone of tears behind her otherwise clear voice. 

"It is strange how nature mocks a person's grief. If the weather was to reflect my current emotions, the skies would be ravaged with thunder and lightning." She turned back around then, the tears she had been fighting to hold back suddenly letting loose, like a broken dam. "I do not even fully know why I came to you today, only that I could not allow you to continue in believing a lie about my son. I know he has betrayed you, yet it is far more complicated than what you perceive it to be." 

Hermione was caught so off guard by her sudden words that she did not respond for one whole minute. How did lady Malfoy know about her relationship with Draco? And if she knew, then how many others knew as well? "It does not matter," she finally said, acting calmer than she really felt. Because despite everything, she was desperate to know the truth, for she wanted more than anything to erase the memory of Draco's guilt in her mind. 

"You are wrong in saying that, because it does matter. To you, my son may seem like a heartless man, achieving his ambitions without the slightest guilt or conscience. Maybe you are right on a certain level, but there are many other facets to Draco that is more than just that. Growing up as a child, he was completely deprived of a father's love, and rarely bestowed by a mother's affections. I had yearned with every fiber of my being to give him all the love he needed, yet was forbidden to do so. His father, afraid that tender affections would ultimately soften his manhood, forbade me to even get close to him. I was only allowed to see my son once a week, and even then, our visits would be brief and impersonal, always chaperoned by one of Draco's many nurses, who also served as Lucius' spy. As you can imagine, the effects of such a childhood could only serve to cut off a person's very emotions. Yet it was even worse for Draco, for, as the Malfoy heir, he was expected to master the secrets of the Dark Arts, a task that many have died trying to achieve. All these factors and then some more eventually forced him to grow up at an early age, turning him into a bitter man. His whole life, he has never truly cared for, much less loved, anyone or anything. But that was not the case with you, Hermione. With you, he finally learned to love and be loved. You were the miracle that finally saved him from what he would have ultimately become." 

"But how did you learn of Draco and I?"Hermione finally managed to asked, unable to believe what she had just heard about his childhood. A disturbingly clear image suddenly flashed through her head, of a young blond boy, peering through the cracks of a half-opened door, eyes widening in shock and horror. She shuddered at the unnerving image, shaking it from her mind.

"Because, my dear, at the time you found out about his betrayal, he had been with me, confessing his love for you." At her words, Hermione's eyes widened in shock, suddenly realizing that that was the reason why he had left her on that fateful day. Unperturbed by her reaction, the older woman continued. "He had been grievously torn over revenge and his love for you. Not knowing where else to turn, he came to me in an act of desperation. He admitted to using you as bait for revenge, but he also confessed that he had gradually, eventually fallen in love with you. And in the end, he had decided to choose your love over hate. But what was a man to do in his position? You defied everything he had ever believed in, and were the only other thing that came between his sweet revenge. Was he to merely forget about his tormented past and look into the future with you, or was he to sacrifice the one woman he would ever love in order to destroy the man who had ravaged his life?" She stopped then, tears streaming in rivulets down her face. Unable to contain the sob building within her chest, she sank down onto the floor, covering her face in her hands. It was then that Hermione realized she herself was crying too, the tears she had thought were long used up now flowing freely down her cheeks. 

_Oh God_, _Draco._ It was her fault. Because of her, he was now in the hands of the Dark Lord. He had tried to explain to her, but she had foolishly, stubbornly turned down his attempts in an act of hurt and anger. Why had she not thought clearly before lashing out at him? _You fool_, she thought bitterly. _If anything should happen to him, how would you go on? _The thought brought on a sudden renewal of her previous resolution to free Draco, and with it, a sudden surge of newfound determination. She also knew then that the reason his mother had come to her that morning was partly for the same reason. 

Walking over to Narcissa, Hermione gently reached for her shoulders, grasping them gently. At the feel of hands on her shoulder, the older woman looked up, finding a tear-streaked but determined face looking down at her. The two women stared at one another, each realizing the thoughts of the other. Words were not necessary for communication in that instant, for they understood each other with complete clarity. Both had the same exact goal in mind, and it seemed as if both knew exactly what to do. 

Eventually, it was Narcissa who finally spoke, and even then, it was merely to say, "It shall be done." Nodding in agreement, Hermione squeezed her shoulders in gentle acquiescence, showing her unquestioned approval. And with those simple words, a plan was formed.

Upstairs, Harry paced anxiously across the floorboards, at an utter loss for ideas. Sitting on the bed, Ron watched him with slight bemusement, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Realizing he was under such speculation, Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks, frowning. 

"What're you grinning about? This isn't the time to crack jokes. Heaven knows what Narcissa Malfoy wants with Hermione. As far as we know, she might be coming under the influence of her bastard husband. And…" 

"…and even if she wasn't, the news she's bringing is bound to be something about Draco, which is gonna make Hermione ballistic again, am I right Harry?" Surprised that Ron had already guessed his thoughts, Harry merely nodded. The redhead, on the other hand, had more to say. "So what happened between you and Herm right before I barged in? Seemed you guys were in a tight situation there, eh?" 

The sudden memory of Hermione's confession of love for Draco once again sent Harry's insides churning. "Forget about it. It's over between the two of us, and has been ever since the moment I let her walk out of my life. She loves Malfoy now, not me." 

The realization was still too painful to bear, and realizing this, he abruptly changed the subject. "But that is not the point right now. The point is, we have to do something about our current situation. Hermione believes it's her duty to save Malfoy, and knowing her, she won't give up until she does. But we can't let her do this, because you know just as well as I that this is pure suicide. No matter how powerful a witch she is, she has not been practicing magic for years now, which becomes a major hindrance to her. And even if she didn't need practice, her powers are still no match against the Dark Lord or Lucius Malfoy. As you can well see, all the odds are against her." 

For a long moment, Ron merely stroked his chin in silence, contemplating the situation. They were at a great disadvantage, with the Dark Lord's powers reigning above theirs, and Hermione at such an irrational state of mind. And what _does_ Narcissa Malfoy want, anyway? There was a niggling sense of suspicion in his head, for it was more than unusual for a Malfoy to seek a witch on enemy lines so openly. Something was definitely wrong here. "There's nothing we can do but wait and see. Let her take the first move. Whatever she does, we follow suit. It may not be the best solution, but it's the only one right now." 

"And how long do you think we'll have to wait?" Harry questioned doubtfully. "It may be a while before she makes a move, and what if we don't make it in time to follow?"

Surprisingly, Ron did not seem perturbed by such doubts. In fact, the smirk that had been threatening to come forth suddenly spread across his face. "Just in case you've forgotten, my friend, we have a fellow Malfoy downstairs. With her arrival, I'm sure the next move will come sooner than you anticipate." 

At those words, a sudden understanding dawned upon Harry. It was all so clear now… Why had he not thought of it sooner? "And all this time, the facts were staring at me right in the face," he said out loud. "You know Ron, you're right. You are a genius."

"_Now_ you realize it?" he asked with mock indignity. But his eyes shone with mutual understanding like they always did when they were in silent agreement. And without actual words, a decision was made.

Agonizing pain lanced through every muscle in his body, making even the effort to breathe unbearable. The cold, dank cell reeked of blood and death, and the harsh stone walls emitted a chill that crept into one's very soul. The iron manacles that restrained him cut into his wrists and ankles, causing them to bleed. His mind constantly slid in and out of consciousness, until he finally could not differential between reality and fantasy. In his dreams, he pictured an angel with chestnut brown hair and luminous, hazel-colored eyes. She beckoned to him, teasing him with her smiles and ethereal beauty. If he had not been so weak, he would have called out for her stay, but it was not so, for his voice seemed to elude him. And each time, to his dismay, she would eventually disappear into thin air. That was the moment when he would snap back into reality and realize the truth of his circumstance. 

Having believed Draco to have had enough torture for the day, the Dark Lord had left him hours ago, promising to return when next the sun rose. He had been genuinely disappointed by the fact that Voldemort had not finished him off, leaving him to his suffering instead. In his current state of mind, he would have been better off dead than alive. All hope had long been crushed from his soul, leaving only bitter despair. There was nothing more to look forward to but the end. He had never been a man who was afraid of death, and he embraced it now. There was nothing else left to live for. 

His delirious mind played over childhood memories, ones he much preferred to forget. They danced in his head like silent phantoms, invoking an anguish he did not wish to feel. The images haunted him better than any ghost ever could. It was strange, he thought to himself, how the bitterest of memories were the ones he would finally bring to his grave, not the sweet, tender ones. And against his will, his mind played back to the first time he had learned the cruel, harsh rules of being a Malfoy. 

_"Father, why are we heading into the woods?" Draco asked with a bit of trepidation. "We never go there." Lucius did not respond, but continued to pull his son further into the forbidden-looking forest. His strides were long and purposeful, making it hard for Draco to catch up. Finally, after what seemed like forever, they reached a clearing surrounded by tall, dark trees. At first, Draco did not understand why he had been brought here, until he spotted something tied to one of the trees. Then, as he got closer, he realized it was not _something, _but _someone. _Bound to the trunk was a beautiful girl with raven-black curls that reached to her waist. A kerchief had been tied around her mouth, undoubtedly to keep her silent. Her skin was like ivory and her eyes the color of lightest lavender. Looking into them, Draco detected the unmistakable countenance of fear. What she wore resembled the poor remnants of a white dress, now mutilated by severe tearing. On further speculation, he discovered several bloodstains on the muddied fabric. He then saw that there were many scattered cut marks on her arms and wrists. The sight made his gut twist in dread, and without realizing it, his footsteps began to slow. However, seeing his son's hesitation, Lucius tightened his grip on Draco's arm and pulled him along with an almost violent force._

_They had now come to stand directly in front of the girl, and Draco realized that she was no more than twenty years old. _What could his father possibly want with such a young girl?_ Yet before he was given the chance to ask anything, Lucius spoke up, reaching out simultaneously to stroke the frightened girl's cheek. _

_"Such a beauty we have here, don't we, Draco? A pity that we can't keep her for ourselves." At his remark, the girl began to squirm, attempting to free herself from Lucius' repulsive touch. Seeing her reaction, he merely laughed and continued by reaching down to stroke the contours of her breast. "You see, my son, tonight you will learn the sacred rules of being a Malfoy. There are five in all, and you will eventually learn that one cannot function without the other four. So, without further nonsense, I order you to kill her, _now._"_ _His hand dropping from the girl's breast, Lucius suddenly produced a sharp, bejeweled dagger from his cloak. He extended it out to Draco, his face now a mask of deadly ferocity. "Make it quick and efficient, a simple slit to the throat. I want no messiness, is that clear?" _

_At his father's words, Draco's blood ran cold. For a long moment of time, he merely stood there, not knowing how to react. How could his father ask him to kill an innocent young girl? It was unfathomable…evil…he could not do it. Finally, a single, silent word escaped his mouth. "No." _

_The reply caused a flash of rage to flit across Lucius' face. And although it was only for a brief instant, the look terrified Draco. He attempted to shrink away, yet before he could react, his father had grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him against he nearest tree. The sudden, hard impact knocked the wind out of him and caused his nose to bleed. Pressed hard against the tree trunk, he felt the coarseness of the bark bite into his flesh, eroding the skin. Against his will, tears began to form in his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks. Sensing this, Lucius brought his head close to his son's ear and whispered dangerously, "Rule number one: never cry" _

_The words slowly sank into Draco's mind, and little by little, he willed the tears away. After he had done so, Lucius once again pulled him to where the girl was bound, and handed him the knife. "Rule number two: make the kill quick and clean, allowing no chances for escape or remorse."_

_Looking into his father's eyes, Draco knew that if he did not kill the girl, he himself was going to end up dead. Yet with all his heart, he did not want to take the life of an innocent person. What was he to do? Finally, knowing he had no other alternative, he closed his eyes, his heart nearly jumping out of his throat. And with a anguished cry, he suddenly lunged forward, slicing the young girl's throat with a single movement. A muffled scream rose from her throat, and then there was silence. Opening his eyes, he observed with horror the dark blood that flowed freely from the girl's cut throat. It streamed down her dress, staining it crimson. He suddenly had the urge to retch violently, knowing it was his own hands that had committed such evil. Dropping the dagger onto the floor, he buried his face in his hands, unable to suppress his self-horror at what he had done. _

_Seeing his son's pitiful reaction, Lucius strode forward, grasping him roughly by the shoulders. "Rule number three: feel no guilt for what you do." The words drove him over the edge, and at that moment, Draco knew he hated his father. _Bastard, _he thought, _I'd rather die than let him do this to me again_. Crying out, he attempted to shake off Lucius' hands, but they were too strong. The next thing he knew, his body was thrown onto the ground, his father's foot resting on his skull. Slowly, he drove the heel of his boot into Draco's head, causing blinding pain to sear through it. Unable to bear it any longer, he finally cried out in agony. This did not make the pain stop, but only served to heighten it. Then, just when he thought he was going to pass out, the pressure suddenly seized. Next, he felt Lucius bend down, and whisper threateningly into his ear, "Rule number four: admit no pain." _

__

__A sudden noise interrupted Draco's horrific memories. It had come from the locked dungeon entrance, and, an instant later, the heavy iron door was thrust open. Light poured into the pitch-dark cell, causing his eyes to wince at the sudden brightness. His first thought was that Voldemort had come back. His lips twisted bitterly, anticipating the next onslaught of torture, hoping it would kill him this time. Yet, as he saw the shadow that descended the staircase, he realized it was not a man's form, but a woman's. It suddenly became hard for him to breathe. Breath held, he watched as the figure came closer, dreading and anticipating whom it was going to be. Finally, when the figure reached the entrance of his cell, he recognized the form. _Hermione._

It could not be…it was not really her. It was only another figment of his feverish imagination, come to torture him with such impossible images. He was afraid to speak, to even breathe, for fear that the image would disappear at the slightest hint of disturbance. For minutes, they merely stared at one another, neither moving nor making a sound. Then, like the voice of a heavenly angel, she called out his name, one syllable, yet spoken with so much emotion; emotions he thought would never be directed towards him again. 

"Draco." Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she bit down on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. He saw pity in her eyes, but he did not want that from her. He wanted much more. Things she would never be able to give him. The knowledge was like salt to an open wound. 

"Why are you here?" he whispered hoarsely, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone. Yet at the same time, he also felt panic, knowing the imminent danger she was in, for at any moment, there was a chance that the Dark Lord would return. 

At first, she did not respond, but simply stared at him with an expression of sorrow. Upon closer inspection, he realized that her form had grown smaller, her face pale with dark circles under her eyes. Dear God, what had happened to her? 

"Is it not obvious why I am here?" she finally answered, after what seemed like an eternity. Those simple words bespoke volumes, and in that instant, Draco dared to hope. He whispered her name then, putting all the emotions he had ever felt for her in that one sacred word. If that did not make her realize his love for her, then nothing ever will. 

For a moment, she merely stared at him, different, conflicting emotions playing on her face. Then, with an anguished cry, she rushed forward, throwing her arms around him, clinging onto him with a force he did not know existed in her. She buried her face against his neck, her tears anointing his skin. They stayed that way for a long moment, each with so much to say, yet loathing to break the sweet silence that loomed between them. The feel of her skin, the smell of her scent, was like a narcotic that sent Draco's mind tumbling into blissful oblivion. His body was no longer aware of the previous pain it had endured. The only thing he was aware of was the way her sweet body pressed against his, and the way she held onto him, as one holding onto an anchor. 

"Dear God, I'm sorry," he finally managed to say hoarsely. "I never meant to hurt you, Hermione…" But his words were cut short when her mouth suddenly swept down upon his, silencing him. When their lips came into contact, it was as if lightning had struck them both. Their mouths fused together in a dance of long, unrequited passion, their tongues mating in the way they would have yearned to at the moment. The kiss was neither soft nor tender, yet it reflected the fierce intensity of their love, a love that could no longer be denied. It was an explosion of all the emotions they had ever felt for one another, fused into a moment of passionate abandon. 

Draco felt the wetness of her tears, could even taste it in his mouth. He inwardly cursed the manacles which bound him, for he ached with the intense desire to hold her in his arms. It was a long time before their lips parted, and when they did, they were both gasping shamelessly for air. They stared at one another, the words they had wanted to say reflected clearly in their eyes. 

"I love you," Hermione finally whispered. 

"As do I," Draco responded hoarsely, in an attempt to keep his rampant emotions in check. "And I always will." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew that they were the truth. He would never be able to love anyone the way he loved her, for a man such as he only loved once and forever. "I'm sorry, so sorry that I have hurt you." 

"Shhh," she whispered softly, placing her fingertips to his lips. "Speak no more, for I am as much to blame. If I had but listened to you, you would not be…" And she suddenly broke off, tears once again filling her eyes. 

"No," he replied fiercely, "do not ever blame yourself for what has happened. Ever." His eyes blazed then, with an intensity that caused her to tremble. 

But their moment of intimacy was sudden broken by Narcissa's presence. They had both been so caught up in their reunion that they had not even noticed her. She stood by the door of the cell, a look of urgency present in her eyes. "Time is running out. We need to leave, now."

"Why are you here, mother?" Draco suddenly asked, clearly surprised. 

"Because I could not let you fall under the hands of the Dark Lord," she replied gravely. Her confession caused a sudden realization to hit him. And with it, came anger. 

"You do not mean to say that it was you who brought Hermione to this cursed place?" When his mother did not respond but merely looked away, his anger mounted. "How could you care so little for her well-being? Do you even know the risks of bringing her here? What would have happened if I had not been alone, if the Dark Lord had been here?" 

"She is not to blame," Hermione's voice cut in. "Besides, I am fine; I did not run into the Dark Lord, and the most important thing is, I've found you." She touched his cheek tenderly. "And freeing you is all that I can think about right now. Even if your mother had not guided me here, I would have come myself. So please, do not blame her for a decision I have made myself." And in the next moment, before he could respond, she whispered an incantation, which suddenly freed him from his bonds. 

However, his body had suffered gravely from the effects of the curse, and without the support of the manacles, it did not have the strength to stand. Grunting in pain, he tried to walk, but his knees suddenly gave way, causing him to fall. He attempted to rise, but a sudden wave of dizziness prevented him from doing so. Frantically, Hermione rushed to his side, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Lady Malfoy," she cried, "I do not think he can walk by himself!" 

"Then we will just have to carry him," Narcissa replied grimly. "We do not have time to lose." 

"_That you are wrong, my dear wife. You do not have time…period_." At those words, Narcissa's face suddenly turned a shade of pasty white. Whipping around, she found herself face-to-face with her husband, a cold, triumphant sneer on his face.

"Where…?" she tried to ask, but the question eventually died in her throat. From where she stood, Hermione suddenly felt a cold shiver of despair creep up her spine. Next to her, she sensed the sudden tension in Draco's body. He clenched his fists, hard, fury suddenly leaping into his gray eyes. 

"Where what, darling? Where did I come from?" he asked casually, his hand coming to stroke the stray strands of her platinum-blonde hair. However, there was nothing casual about the lethal look in his predatory gaze. "Weren't expecting me, were you, _wife_? Trying to bring her here three hours early, so they could _escape_?" He suddenly took fistfuls of her hair, pulling it hard. She cried out, trying free herself from his hold, but he held her hair like a leash. Had she tried further to dislodge his hand, she would have succeeded in pulling her hair out. 

"I told you to bring her here three hours later,and you _disobey_ me?" He pulled her face close to his, his face contorted with cold rage. "If I had not been suspicious of you all along, you would have been the cause of their escape. And do you know what would have happened to you _then_?" Filled with fear, Narcissa could not respond, but merely shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. 

"_I would have killed you!_" he roared, pushing her against the cold stone wall. She hit it with a dull thud, falling to the ground in a heap. Next, Lucius' eyes fixed on first Draco, then Hermione. The cold sneer was back on his face, and he sauntered toward them. Stiffening, Hermione squared her shoulders, prepared to face whatever was coming her way. Then, before she knew it, Draco had gotten up from his position on the ground, and suddenly lunged himself at his father. He knocked Lucius off balance, and drove his fist into his stomach. The older man groaned, doubling over in pain. Seeing that he was down, Draco used his elbow and drove it into his father's back, causing him to crumple to the ground, seemingly unconscious. 

Having spent what had been left of his energy, Draco suddenly slid to the ground also, weak and out of breath. "Hermione," he managed to rasp in between labored breathing, "leave now, before it's too late. And bring mother with you." 

"No!" she protested in horror, not believing what he had just proposed. "I am not leaving here without you. If I die, then so be it." Her tone was set in determination, her eyes stubborn and uncompromising. "We leave here together, or not at all."

But before Draco had time to respond, Lucius suddenly stirred to life. Extricating his wand from his cloak, he suddenly pointed it at his son. He chanted the spell to the Cruciatus Curse, and instantaneously, sparks flew out of his wand, directed towards Draco. Within seconds, he was writhing on the floor in excruciating agony. 

"Draco!" Hermione cried out, horrified that his own father had actually used the Cruciatus Curse on him. Turning to Lucius, her eyes sparked with sudden fury. "You bastard," she seethed, "how could you do this to your own _son_?" 

He laughed at her words, the sound harsh and cruel. "That's not all that I can do." And with a wave of his wand, he pinned her to the stone wall, immobilizing her. She tried with all her strength to move, but found the effort impossible. And before she knew it, he was advancing towards her, a cold sneer on his face. "I still haven't gotten even with you for that time you tried to hurt my royal jewels, sweetheart." His words brought on comprehension, then sudden fear into her eyes. Seeing this, his smile broadened. "Thank goodness you didn't manage to damage it, for then how would I be able to taste your sweet body now, hmm?" He was but an inch away from her immobilized body, and with a sudden, swift movement, he parted her thighs, lifting up her skirt, which had only covered up to her knees. 

_She was on the verge of being raped by Lucius Malfoy. Dear God, this was not happening,_ she thought to herself. Earth-shattering horror consumed her, and she was helpless to prevent it. Freeing himself from his confines, he pressed himself against her, stroking her intimately. Tears of fear and rage streamed down her face. She promised to kill herself afterwards when this was over. She would never be able to live with herself, knowing what had been done to her. She focused her hate-filled eyes on the man before her, vowing to kill him as well. 

Trembling from the previous effects of the curse, Draco's eyes were hooded and blurry. He tried to focus them, and the mere task was enough to send him gasping for breath. From a distance, he heard his father's voice. _But where was Hermione?_ It was then that his eyes suddenly came into focus, and he froze at the image before him. Pinned against the wall was Hermione, her skirt lifted up to her waist, his father poising against her. He attempted to move then, his body breaking out into a sweat, yet in the end, he did not even budge an inch. _Move, dammit, move!_, he told himself. He could not let his father do this, he could not! He'll kill he bastard himself. With one last effort, he tried to will himself to stand. 

And then, like the deafening clap of thunder, he heard her scream.

Okay guys, I know what you're probably thinking right now. You're probably like "Asuka's gone insane, how could she put such a disgusting scene like that in here?" But, my dear readers, do you really think I would actually let anything happen to our beloved Hermione? If you answer a certain way, then you really do not know me. But for the rest of you, rest assured. Anyway, I'm hard at work on my last installment. I have to make it top-notch in order to please all you fabulous audiences, right? Many people have sent me e-mails telling me all sorts of ways to end the story, and I have been thinking, should I end it with a happy-perfect ending, with a twist to it, or a bittersweet, but memorable one? I'm really undecided. So once again, it's up to you guys to decide. Tell me what you like and I'll see what works best, okay? Until next time, then! 


	13. Made of You Pt 13 Section 1

Made of You Pt 13 (segment 1)

Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters.

            Her scream rang out in the tiny chamber of the cell, echoing off the walls with a deafening finality. Draco's blood ran cold at the sound, his body stiffening from his near-hysteria. A flash of memory suddenly pervaded his pain-fogged mind. The image of his father, taking his mother unwillingly, her face strained with tears and anguish. The expression on Lucius' face, repulsively triumphant, his eyes hooded with malicious lust as he moved roughly within her unwilling body. And he, Draco, had stood watching, useless in his helplessness, unable to end his mother's suffering. His eyes had welled with tears of horror and rage, fists clenched so hard that his nails had broken the skin of his palms. _Never again…not ever…_

            With a cry of animalistic fury, he suddenly lifted his abused body off the ground, throwing himself against Lucius with what little strength he had left. He knocked the older man out of balance, right before Lucius was able to invade Hermione's immobile body. Both men hit the ground simultaneously, leaving each of them breathless. Having spent the last of his strength, Draco felt himself go limp, his body breaking out in a cold sweat.  

            Hermione watched with horror as the events unfolded before her eyes. Her mind was still reeling from the shock of what had nearly happened between herself and Lucius. Her heart was beating erratically against her chest, her entire body shaking with fear for what was about to transpire. She knew Draco's weak body could not take anymore mistreatment. It was a wonder how he had possessed the strength to disengage Lucius from her in the first place. All she knew now was that she needed to help him…she _had_ to. Even if she had to sacrifice herself. 

            Just then, Lucius gained control of himself once more. He rose swiftly to his feet, his dark cloak swirling about him ominously. His gaze swept to the crumpled body of his son on the ground. He sneered maliciously as he strode over to the still form. Without hesitation, he dealt a swift kick to Draco's ribs, eliciting an involuntary grunt from the younger man's lips. Pleased at the reaction, Lucius dealt him another kick, and another, each one becoming progressively harder. 

            "_No!_ Stop it!" Hermione screamed hysterically, tears streaming down her face. If he continued with this onslaught, he would eventually kill Draco. "Please stop!" 

            He paused abruptly at the sound of her voice, suddenly turning his attention away from his son. His menacing eyes pierced hers briefly, then traveled down the length of her body. In her fear, she did not realize that she was barely clothed, most of her body left exposed to his scrutiny. With a predatory smile, he began stalking towards her, stopping only when he was mere inches from her. Lifting his hand, he idly began to stroke her cheek, which turned cold-ice under his touch. 

            "Ah…ever the martyr", he drawled, his teeth flashing maliciously. His fingers moved away from her face, traveling smoothly down her throat, her shoulder, stopping near her heaving chest. Hermione averted her eyes, her body shuddering in intense revulsion. She prepared herself for what was to come, for what she was going to allow to happen. Taking a deep breath, she strove for courage. This was what she wanted to do. _Had _to do. For Draco. Her love. Without hesitation, her eyes suddenly swung to Lucius', no trace of fear remaining in their depths. 

            "Do what you will to me," she whispered, trying to keep her voice from wavering. "But leave your son alone." She emphasized the words "_your son" _in hopes of rousing a nearly hopeless sympathy within the man before her. However, by the look of steel on his face, she doubted that he was even remotely touched. Impossibly, her heart plummeted deeper into despair. 

            "Enough, my dear." His voice was soft, veiling the malice that was evident in his eyes and every other part of his body. "Do you think to move me so easily?" He grabbed her thighs roughly, pushing them apart, his fingers digging cruelly into her skin. Hermione bit back a cry of pain, refusing to give him the pleasure of knowing he had hurt her. Wrapping her legs around his hips, he ground himself against her intimately, readying himself for what was to come. 

            Behind Lucius' shoulder, Hermione saw Draco, his body covered in blood and sweat, his matted hair half-covering the pained expression on his face. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and she saw the rage, the pain, and the helplessness in those gray depths. _Forgive me_, she pleaded silently to him. _I tried, my love_. It was over now, everything. Their love, their life... So this was the sacrifice for loving him. Her heart twisted painfully. She had no regrets. 

            Their eye contact was suddenly broken as Lucius jerked her roughly by the chin, bringing her face inexplicably close to his own. In the next instant, his mouth swept down upon hers, devouring it with a fierce brutality. She felt him stir between her thighs, preparing for the invasion that was about to occur. She closed her eyes then, willing her body and mind to block out what was happening. 

            "_No_…" Draco cried hoarsely, his nails digging into the hard ground. This time, he did not have the strength to stop his father. He was useless. He had failed…again. First his mother, now the woman he loved. Tears of despair and utter helplessness stung the back of his eyelids. For the first time in years, he felt like the vulnerable little boy he had once been. "_Hermione…_" he whispered in torment, her name the only prayer he would ever speak. 

            The three conscious beings in the room were so intent on their own train of thoughts, two in the throes of anguish, and the other in wicked triumph, that they did not notice the approach of two outside parties. The dual silhouettes hung outside the narrow entrance of the cell, observing the gruesome scene that was unfolding before their eyes. They waited for the perfect moment to strike, afraid that one wrong move would destroy everything. At last, when they saw Lucius poising against his paralyzed captive, one hooded figure turned to the other for a sign of consent. The second one gave a brief nod, signaling his assent. Without hesitation, they stepped into the cell, wands raised towards the elder Malfoy. 

            On the verge of his perverse gratification, Lucius was suddenly seared with a shock of blinding pain. It was intense, almost unbearable. _Like the Cruciatus Curse_. With a strangled cry, he dropped to the floor, instantly writhing in inescapable agony. The portion of his mind that could still think was bewildered that his son had actually managed to curse him. In his suffering, he did not notice the sudden presence of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, the two men his lord had been trying to capture for years. As one hastened to the motionless figure of Draco on the ground, the other had eyes only for the woman imprisoned against the wall. 

            "Hermione!" Harry cried out, rushing over to her immobile form. Using his wand, he freed her from her invisible restraints. Without the bonds to hold her in place, there was nothing else to support her, for her strength had long since abandoned her. Hitching forward, she found herself approaching the cold ground at breakneck speed. However, the instant before expected impact, strong arms suddenly encircled her waist, pulling her against something firm. When she was able to comprehend what had happened, she found she was within Harry's warm embrace. However, her body was cold and numb, as was her mind. 

            Seeing her involuntary shiver, Harry's gaze traveled down to her scarcely clad form. Without hesitation, he took off his woolen cloak, enfolding her within it. Her gaze swung to his, an expression of intense gratitude in their depths. For a long, drawn-out moment, neither one of them spoke a word. It was Hermione who finally broke the silence.  

            "Harry…" she managed to speak, her voice unsteady. "How did you…how did you know…" He hushed her words by pressing a finger to her lips. "Shh," he murmured softly, "I'll explain later." He glanced over her pale figure in concern. "Did he hurt you?"

            She shook her head negatively. "No, he didn't, but Draco…" her voice trailed off abruptly. She suddenly scanned the room frantically, her gaze locking on Draco's limp figure on the ground. Her eyes welled with tears, and with a heartrending cry, she broke free of Harry's hold, rushing over to her lover. 

            Harry's heart gave a painful clench at the gesture, his gut twisting with unbidden anguish. Abruptly, he turned his attention away from them, focusing his concentration on the situation at hand. With mechanical movements, he secured a full-body bind on Lucius, making sure that the man would not be able to escape. Meanwhile, Ron had rushed over to the unconscious Narcissa, checking her body over for any injuries. 

            When Hermione had reached Draco's side, she wrapped her arms around his limp form, holding him gently. "Draco," she managed to whisper through unshed tears, "forgive me for failing you." Tenderly, she brushed a lock of his sweat-drenched hair, kissing his temple lightly. His gray eyes were pained, seemingly unfocused. With great effort, he lifted his hand, cupping her face weakly. 

            "No… I'm the one who failed you." His eyes traveled down to the opening of her cloak, where the remnants of her torn dress was visible. His expression became tormented at the sight. "You must despise me for this," he managed to choke out. "I don't understand why you're still here. You can't possibly want a man who's helpless to protect even the one he loves." His gaze strayed to Harry in the distant corner. "You deserve to be with someone who can defend you…." 

            "No!" Hermione protested vehemently, cutting him off, "don't torture yourself. I belong to you, and you alone. If you don't want me…" Her voice suddenly became pained, "then I'll die without knowing the touch of another man." Her warm tears trickled down her face, splashing onto his cheeks. 

            "Hermione…" Draco whispered in torment, torn between his love for her and the knowledge of his own worthlessness. How could he possibly let her stay with him, when he had just proven to himself that he was ultimately powerless to shelter her from evils such as his father? He dared not even think about what would have happened had Potter and Weasley not appeared at the right moment. 

            His grim thoughts were broken by Weasley's voice. "Harry, Hermione!" he exclaimed, "Better leave now, before anyone finds out what's happened." With a grunt, he hoisted the still-unconscious Narcissa across his right shoulder, and stood up. He inclined his head towards the paralyzed Lucius. "We'd best bring him to Dumbledore and the Ministry now." He sneered at the sight of the elder Malfoy, his usually pleasant features distorting in disgust. 

            Pulling Draco's arm around her shoulders and wrapping her own around his waist, Hermione managed with an effort to lift him off the ground. She winced at the obvious pain he was experiencing from the movement of his sore muscles. He noticed her look of concern from the corner of his eye. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing aches, he forced himself to stand up straight. He ignored the fact that his entire body screamed in protest. The intense effort left him panting for breath. 

            Managing not to glance at the lovers even once, Harry proceeded to lift Lucius by the waist, slinging the older man over his shoulder. The weight was heavy, but he was completely unaware of it. His entire being was concentrated on not noticing the obvious love and affection between Hermione and Malfoy. It was not easy. When he had promised her that he would accept only her friendship, he had not imagined it to be this difficult. This painful. Clenching his jaw in determination, he silently renewed his vows, promising that he would not breach the trust that Hermione had in him.  

            "Let's go," he said curtly, striding towards the cell door. The sooner he left here, the better. He needed to keep as much distance from her as possible, lest he should do something that he would regret. The further he was away from her, the easier it was for him to forget. 

            However, he had not taken more than five steps when blinding pain suddenly seared the notorious scar on his forehead. Dropping his ward to the ground, he sank to his knees, clutching his head with both hands in agony. His entire being shook from the intense pain, helpless in the wake of its power. _Only one thing could have caused this…_

            "Harry!" Hermione and Ron screamed out simultaneously. 

            "_Go…_" he rasped out hoarsely, "_hurry…_" However, the moment he said those words, a cold blast of wind invaded the small chamber of the cell. It was enough to chill one to the bone. In the next instant, a thick gray fog filled the air. It slowly formed into a human shape, revealing the solid black figure of the one being that none in the room could ever forget…

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Okay guys, here's the deal. Because I'm taking so damn long in rewriting the last chapter, I've decided to post it up in parts so you don't have to wait. This is section one, and I hope I'll have everything up by section three at most. Hope you guys like it, and I just have to say that I am soooo sorry for not putting it up sooner. Well, tell me how it is, okay? Love you all! I truly do!


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